An Irish Rover and the Wayward Sailor
by Irishlass18
Summary: Forced to disguise herself as a clerk to protect her family,Ashlynne must brave life aboard the HMS Dauntless with sailors who seem good naturedly determined to expose her "innocent nature" to the pleasures of the world, barely escaping from one mishap to another;added to this mess is a certain keenly observant Lieutenant Norrington who is entirely too handsome for comfort. OC/JN
1. Prologue

_((I do not own Pirates of the Caribbean or any of the characters therein. I only created the OC's of the Fitzpatrick's and all family/enemies related to them as well as this story idea.))_

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_1720, Scotland_

Some are blessed with family and some cursed. As time ticked past, and the longer she was in their company, Ashlynne Fitzpatrick felt that at this very moment her family was more of a curse than a blessing.

"Yer daft and ye willnae admit it e'en to yerself!" She gritted her teeth when she heard a condescending sigh following the exclamation shouted in her direction, "Ye are living in denial, my dear."

Choosing to ignore her cousin Devlin's insult, Ashlynne instead concentrated harder on her struggle to stay seated on her horse, not an easy task when her rear screamed how much it hated her for the torture of two straight weeks of riding. Ashlynne pulled her long coat tighter around her shoulders. With the biting breeze, Ashlynne was glad she hadn't bothered with packing any dresses into her saddle bags. They were a nuisance when riding for long periods of time anyway.

Ashlynne sighed as she looked up at the dreary sky and squinted against the misty rain that showered down. She did agree with Devlin on certain points of what he said. At times, she did come across as being somewhat daft, for lack of a better description of her absentmindedness, but she was a very clever woman most of the time. However, dear cousin Devlin didn't see her oddness as a sometime thing but more of a continuous habit.

"How am I being daft? My sister's begging me to come to her and ye see me as mad for wanting to figure out what's wrong?" Ashlynne suddenly yelled back at Devlin with a scowl on her face.

Brendan, the kindest and most patient of all her cousins present, pulled his horse closer, "He doesnae mean to say that ye shouldnae come to Hope's aid but I'm sure he does think yer missing a few bits of common sense."

Before Ashlynne could argue her cousin Gamaliel flanked her other side, "Tis true that ye could have waited till these storms were gone afore we set out. It's quite idiotic of us to travel whilst the weather is so bad." His eyes took on a far off look as he dramatically struck a pose, "We could lose our way and wander lost for weeks until we all die of starvation and thirst."

Ashlynne shook her head at her overdramatic cousin but smiled, "Always the joyful one arenae ye Gamaliel? Also, how can we die of thirst when it rains so bloody much in this cursed place?"

Gamaliel just shrugged, "Death is always just a misguided step away. Just because I always see the truth in life doesnae mean I cannae be joyful. Ye ken that I can be verra joyful. I enjoy my share of merry making!"

"Aye, but only after ye have consumed half the barrels of ale in all of the Emerald Isle!" Ashlynne's good friend Parlan yelled from somewhere behind them.

Gamaliel grimaced, "And ye think that ye donnae drink just as much as me?"

"Aye I do," Parlan suddenly appeared close beside Brendan, his usual lopsided smile spread across his boyish face, "but at least I can hold my ale without prancing about like a silly dolt!"

Before yet another argument could break out amongst the two, Brendan shouted, "I do believe our destination is just ahead, if ye all would cease yer bickering we might be able to reach it before this weather takes another turn for the worse!"

Ashlynne managed to peer around Devlin's broad back to see that he spoke true and that Castle Dunkirdie was just on top of the next rise. Heaving a sigh of relief, Ashlynne hurried her horse along to keep up with the others. Although she dearly loved each one of her traveling companions, she was quite tired of having to constantly listen to them tease and provoke each other, let alone her. Two months was long enough in their company and she was eagerly looking forward to having a break from them. Though she enjoyed the male sex as much as any other female, her enjoyment had a tendency to weaken when confined with them on ships, in carriages, and on trails for over two months with no break.

At the ripe "old" age of twenty-two and no husband in sight, no thanks to her choice of vocation as well as her choice of company—her cousins and Parlan did a good job of keeping away any would-be suitors—she definitely was no blushing virgin in regards to how men acted or thought. Sure, she had still never been with a man in the biblical sense but having to live with men intimate quarters for extended periods of time had taught her many things—some she wished she could unlearn—about men. This excursion with her cousins had actually been mild compared to what she normally had to handle.

Once they arrived in the keep and were ushered towards the great hall, Ashlynne noticed that something was amiss. Castle Dunkirdie had never been a place of great warmth and laughter but it seemed especially cold and dreary this day and it wasn't completely due to the weather. She hoped that her sister would explain to them why their childhood home was so dark. They were left alone once they were standing in the great hall. Gamaliel wore the look of one who was waiting for the other shoe to drop and Ashlynne was sure the rest of the group wore similar expressions.

"Welcome!" Ashlynne instantly stiffened when she heard **his** voice.

Her cousins quickly formed a protective barrier around her as Parlan approached Laird Ingram Comyn, the man who had framed then brutally murdered her parents and forced most of her family to flee back to Ireland after false accusations of betrayal and traitorous behavior. Ashlynne had long prayed that the man had finally met his fate and died a horrible death, but obviously that was still yet to come.

"Why are ye here?" Ashlynne barely kept herself from yelling her question as she tried to lunge past her cousins; sadly Brendan and Gamaliel held her back.

Ingram smiled, his lips thin, "Why my dear that is no way to greet yer host and laird."

Gamaliel growled and stepped forward with his sword ready, "How did ye become laird of Dunkirdie?"

"I merely took what was mine," he waved his hand and a whole garrison of soldiers quickly filled the room with their swords drawn, "Withnae all of yer family here, yer sister had no choice but to let me in. Now if ye would be as kind as to lower yer weapons I believe we can all have a pleasant conversation without bloodshed."

Ashlynne grimaced and lowered her head. Never in her life had she felt so useless and such a failure. When her sister had needed her most she had failed to come. She'd always been there for her sister, from the time when Ashlynne took the blame for painting the family dog to the time when Ashlynne covered for her sister's absence while she went out fishing when she was supposed to be studying with the tutor. Though their personalities differed, Hope and Ashylnne had always been kindred spirits and supportive of one another.

The message, when it had finally reached her, was already almost a year late. Ashlynne had been on an anthropological expedition with Parlan in the Andes for the scientific society of England—her sex overlooked by the wealthy patron she'd managed to charm a few years ago while he'd been in Ireland—when she got word of her sister's dilemma. Even then, it had taken her a good amount of time to travel back to Ireland to collect three of her closest cousins in order to make the journey fully prepared.

"What? Have I rendered ye speechless my dear? What a pity, I do so love yer ranting." Ingram snickered and waved his hand again.

Moments later Hope appeared, not terribly battered but clearly shaken. Nothing could've held Ashlynne back as she rushed to her sister's side and embraced her. Hope felt much smaller from when Ashlynne had last seen her nearly a year and a half back and Ashlynne knew it was from Ingram's cruelty. For a few seconds, Ashlynne was blinded by her fierce hatred for the man and a bloodlust began to take over her but then Hope clutched Ashlynne fiercely and began to cry, bringing Ashlynne back to reality.

"Why have ye done this?" Ashlynne yelled as she held her shaking sister.

Ingram clicked his tongue, "Now donnae be losing yer temper dear, ye know how little ye listen when that happens. This will all resolve itself if ye but do me a slight favor. I ken that ye would nay come back, or help me for that matter, if I didnae take things into my own hands. Now, if ye all would excuse us?"

Ingram nodded his head and Ashlynne's cousins, friend, and sister were quickly taken from the room. From the stricken look that Hope gave her what Ingram was about to suggest was horrible and would probably cost her her life. Ashlynne suppressed the urge to throw herself at the man and tear him limb from limb and instead stiffly sat in the chair across from his at the table.

"What do ye wish of me?" she was surprised at how calm her voice sounded.

Ingram slowly poured some ale for the both of them, "Ye always cut to the true subject at hand donnae ye? I was so hoping we could enjoy a few moments trading stories from the past, but if ye insist then I will abide ye."

Ingram paused and slowly sipped at his ale. Just to spite him, Ashlynne downed the contents of her cup in one gulp. She was in no mood to deal with his games, especially when he held all of their lives in his unstable hands. Although he was a very sly man, he was also on the brink of insanity. Her parents had discovered this too late in the past.

"I want ye to go to the Caribbean and retrieve something verra precious to me. I'll have a boat waiting for ye o'er in Dover. Ye have one weeks time to get to Dover and set sail. I can assure ye that there is nay a way for ye to escape this, and e'en if ye try I will kill yer sister and torture yer family and friend until each of them dies a slow and verra painful death. Now how say ye?"

Ashlynne leaned back in her chair and processed all that Ingram had just told her. What he was suggesting would not only cost her life but it would most likely cost her cousin's lives and her friend's. She couldn't abandon her sister though; there was no possibility of her doing that; that wasn't even an option. They had always been there for each other; the daughters of the Fitzpatrick's were close and would never abandon one another.

"Well? Speak up!"

Ashlynne leaned forward and poured herself some more ale, "Ye cannae expect me to give ye an answer immediately after all that ye have thrown at me! I need some time to think over all that ye have suggested and converse with my family in order to come up with the best decision." Ashlynne calmly leaned back and drank her ale.

"Best decision?" Ingram coughed as he choked on his laughter, "My dear, there is nay other decision in this matter! Ye have to do this or ye will pay with all their lives!"

Ashlynne nodded grimly, "I ken that, but I would like to discuss this matter with my family afore we are forced to leave."

"Och! Ye didnae think I'd let ye take yer cousins with ye now did ye?" He let out a harsh coughing sound that Ashylnne could only assume was laughter. "Nay, my men'll escort ye to Dover and from there ye'll be under the watchful eye of a trusted captain of friend of mine."

"A pirate no doubt." Ashlynne growled into her mug.

Ingram smiled sinisterly as he stood, "Aye, that'll be the truth of it. Though he's considered more of a privateer for the crown these days. I'll leave ye to say yer goodbyes then it'll be off ye go."

Ashlynne nodded to herself and stood calmly. With stiff legs she walked to the fire and placed her hands on the stones of the mantle above it. Taking deep breaths in order to calm herself, Ashlynne thought over all that had just occurred. She was still in shock from finding her old home in the hands of her enemy and now she had to deal with all else that he had said. So much anger was building up inside of her that she feared her head would explode. Taking one last breath she let it out in a loud scream.

"Lassie! Shut that mouth of yers afore ye deafen us all!" yelling as well, Devlin suddenly appeared at her side.

Ashlynne stopped and put her hand against her now light head, "Sorry, I just didnae ken how else to calm down."

"Most people merely take deep breaths and count to a certain number, but I suppose everyone has their own ways. Personally, I find getting drunk, finding a nice big tree, and then pissing my cares away quite relaxing." Gamaliel spoke from the table where he poured a glass of ale but then proceeded to drink the rest of the pitcher.

"I think by now ye all ken that Ashlynne isnae like most people." Hope spoke up as she walked into the room.

Ashlynne hurried to her younger sister and took her in her arms. Although Hope had indeed grown smaller, Ashlynne could still sense the strength and fire that was inside each one of her family members. It was this assurance that Hope hadn't been completely defeated that allowed Ashlynne to let go of her sister and step slightly away in order to let her speak.

"Hope, how did this all happen?" Parlan was the first to voice all of their thoughts.

Hope took a deep breath, "Well, me and a few other lasses were out collecting herbs for our healer when out of nowhere the soldier's appeared and took us hostage. It wasnae until hours later that Ingram came and it was then that I ken all was doomed. He ransomed me for entrance into Dunkirdie then promptly set about disarming all of our men and taking command. It was at that time that he instructed me to write to ye but he wouldnae let me tell ye why for fear that ye would come with all of our family."

Ashlynne nodded and took her sister into her arms again, "It wasnae yer fault Hope, there was nothing anyone could do in that situation except what was done."

"Are ye going to do as Ingram said?" Hope pulled away and looked into Ashlynne's face, fear apparent in her gaze.

"I ken there is naught else that I can do! If ye all value yer lives I have to!" Ashlynne exclaimed, throwing her arms about in anger and frustration.

Brendan looked up from the fire in curiosity, "What did he ask ye to do?"

Ashlynne quickly explained all that had been spoken of and of the chances they had if they tried to escape. She knew in her heart that there was no other way but to proceed with what Ingram had ordered but she dearly wished there weren't so many lives depending on the outcome. Ashlynne had gone on dangerous missions before, after all that was part of her job; she was used to her life being threatened, who wasn't when they were the first to come upon an uncivilized culture, but she wasn't ever comfortable when more than her own life was threatened.

"Well how do ye expect to come about this object when ye donna e'en ken what it is? And if it's so precious then how are ye supposed to bring it back to this devil without his 'friend' laying his piratey hands on it?" Gamaliel asked between gulps of ale.

Ashlynne glared at Gamaliel and placed her hands on her hips, "How daft do ye think I am? I ken that what e'er I do will have to be verra cunning but I donae ken what yet! So if ye would please stop drowning yerself in ale and help me come up with a plan!" Ashlynne marched over to the table and knocked the ale pitcher out of her cousin's hands and into his lap, earning a few choices curses from the now soaked man.

Parlan began pacing and Ashlynne could only watch with bemusement as each one of her cousins in turn took to pacing the length of the room as well. She decided to sit at the table with Hope and wait out their pondering. Ingram came back and asked her decision in the time frame it took for her cousins to realize that pacing wasn't very helpful.

"I will do as ye say." She stood and glared over at the man. "However, I will do it in my own way."

Ingram frowned, "I don't think you are in any position to be setting stipulations."

"Do you trust this captain friend of yers more than ye trust me? Do ye have something o'er his head the way ye have with me? How can ye trust him not to take this precious thing from me and leave ye with nothing?" As she questioned him she saw his resolve wavering and so pressed on. "Let me sail to the Caribbean in my own fashion, under my own disguise, that way I can find this thing and bring it back to ye withnae bothering your 'friend' with this matter."

"How do I ken ye willnae go off and find reinforcements to try and rescue this lot?" Ingram stepped closer, attempting to use his height to intimidate her. "Yer no better than a pirate yerself."

Ashlynne stood to her tallest and squared her shoulders, "I give ye my word as a Fitzpatrick that I will retrieve this precious object from the Caribbean and return it to ye in one piece with nay fighting ye so long as ye promise not to lay one threatening hand upon my family in my absence."

Out of the corner of her eye she could see her cousins stirring amongst themselves. It was obvious to her that they were weighing the pros and cons of killing Ingram now and being done with it. She hoped that they understood, as she did, that if Ingram fell now then they would all fall. His men were loyal to the death and where one evil man fell there were always two or three more to take his place.

"Verra well. I will give you a year to retrieve it and come back."

"A year? That's nay nearly enough time to get passage there, find this object, and come back again. There are too many variables that cannae be depended upon." Ashlynne steeled herself against any more of his arguments. "Give me two years. If I am nay back in this verra spot in two years time then ye may do to my family as ye will and may God be the judge between us."

Ingram was silent in response. Hope was wringing her hands and out of the corner of her eye Ashlynne could see her cousins eyeing Ingram and herself with caution.

"Ye'll be sailing to Port Royal with this," he held out a bejeweled dagger of intricate design, "there's a blacksmith there in the town. Give that to him and he'll give ye what I want." Ingram held her gaze and for the first time she glimpsed what could have been mistaken as emotion beyond selfish pride. "If yer a day late, they'll all die."

Ashlynne clenched the dagger in her fist and nodded, "I understand."

And she did indeed, for if she failed her family would die. If she succeeded, well, she could die as well. Life was rapidly beginning to look more and more grim than the weather pounding away at the walls outside.

Ingram left her with her cousins then and they all sat at the table in a solemn hush. Each was wrapped up in his or her own thoughts of weighing the pros and cons of the current situation. The longer they sat there the more and more convinced she was that she was most likely going to die but at least a plan was coming to fruition. It was Parlan who broke the silence.

"So what grand scheme do ye have?"

Ashlynne looked out the window and smiled, "I donna ken how grand it is but I have a wee lil plan cooking up as we sit here."

"Heaven save us when she smiles like that!" Brendan spoke up from her side and the lot of them laughed, the sound strained but welcome.

Ashlynne continued to chuckle, though her heart clenched. Heaven help them indeed.


	2. Events at a Tavern

_((Just a heads up, these events are all happening before Norrington even meets Elizabeth and helps fish Will out of the water, though that will occur relatively soon.))_

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_1721, England_

It had taken entirely too long to get here, thought Ashlynne as she frowned into the pint at hand, watching the revelry of her fellow shipmates in front of her. Of course since last year many bribes had had to be made, old favors called in, new identities invented, disguises learned and adapted to in order to get here. Given these facts, perhaps she should be thankful that she was this far already, a day and a half away from setting sail for the Caribbean onboard one of His Majesty's vessels. Instead she found herself tapping her fingers on the table in front of her, impatient for the next minute pass, wanting time to go faster and slower all at once.

"Hey! Ash-boy!"

Ashlynne perked up and looked over to find her cabin mate, the midshipman Groves, swerving towards her. Though he had been the instigator of her nickname—an unfortunate accident with misfiring a gun had left her face covered in black powder residue and he'd found it necessary to make a pun on her name—she liked him well enough. He wasn't too pushy with personal facts, took her at face value, and respected her privacy—a feature that left most of her other shipmates flabbergasted that such a youth would be so private.

In fact, her friendship with him was part of what had kept her sex a secret thus far. He was also picky about being seen half naked—his father had been a cleric and his mother a clerics daughter—and did not like the physical banter most of the sailors did—though he was an excellent boxer when it came down to it—and was considered hoity-toity by the others for his unwillingness to carouse with loose women. As she came across as the same, though a much younger version—she was passing herself off as a young clerk after all—it was only natural, in everyone else's minds, that they would fall in together as mates.

"Why aren't you out dancing with the lads?" He asked, his words slurring only slightly. He'd apparently had more than a few pints already. "This is our last shore leave before we set off for the wild, blue yonder."

Ashlynne grunted, making sure to keep her voice low and uneven like that of a teenage boy, "Ye ken I am only good on my feet when I'm on a ship." She'd managed to convince the lot of them that she was a graceless, lanky youth only good with papers, writing, and minimal fighting. "Besides I donna want to risk getting swallowed by her." She jutted her chin towards the rather well endowed bar maid named Martha who was again making her rounds of kissing the sailors on the dance floor.

"Scared of a little kiss are you?" Groves chuckled. He glanced down at her half drunken pint and frowned. "You are not much for celebrating are you? Were you not the one that's been so eager to set sail all this time? Now here we are, only days away from setting sail, and you're not even smiling."

"What have I got to smile about? That new lieutenant is gonna make my life a living hell I ken it."

Groves only laughed at her discomfort. He wasn't going to argue though, she knew. Lieutenant James Norrington had joined the crew only a month or so before and had, in that short amount of time, managed to change the daily duties of nearly every sailor on board. He had forced all of them to retrain in every weapon and procedure and required Ash to take out every report ever written about or for the ship and crew and file it away in a completely new fashion. Due to her accent and youth—they teased her about her lack of scruff-he'd challenged her education and writing skills and had made her read a number of anthologies on past naval exploits and write reports to him, in English, French, and Latin. She'd only really struggled on the Latin thankfully.

He had a knack for finding fault in everyone around him and pushed everyone to exceed any previous level met. These things were a damned nuisance, yes, but what kept all of them from hating him was the knowledge that his father had been one of the best admirals in the king's navy and with a father like that anyone was be bound to be a picky prick of sorts.

Of course, he held himself to the same high standards that he held all others to, if not higher. His dedication to the men around him and his passion for justice were obvious to all, more qualities that kept the lot of them from wanting to smother him in his sleep. Ashlynne wondered if he even slept at night since he always seemed to find something to criticize or attempt to perfect. Perhaps his mind was always swimming with new schemes for betterment.

In addition to his nitpicking, Ashlynne had more reason to feel uncomfortable in his presence. He was a keen observer and more than once had nearly caught her doing something that could have given away her sex—brushing her hair away from her face—she'd cropped it shorter than most of the sailors had but it was stubborn and often caused her grief—covering her mouth when sneezing or coughing, refraining from the physical banter between the sailors, scratching at the bindings over her chest, etc. She'd been lucky so far, of this she knew, since more people overlooked the clerk except whenever they wanted a file or to write a report. But Lieutenant Norrington was not most people and that had her worried.

"He's not so bad Ashlin." Groves picked up his pint and swallowed the last dregs of it. "You'll just need to stay on your toes around him. His discipline and unwillingness to accept a job half done will probably save the lot of us."

Ashlynne nodded. While the crew had not been horrible before Norrington's arrival they had lacked a certain level of discipline. She should actually be thankful for Norrington's presence. At least with him on board the pranks were less likely to happen. She took a sip of her pint at the thought of the numerous pranks she'd had to scrape through over the past few months.

A number of her shipmates had taken a fancy to the idea of educating her, a poor, sheltered lad of eighteen, in the ways of the world. At every opportunity on shore leave they inevitably would find some way to throw one or two or even three barmaids at her, all paid to try to kiss her or grope her. It had taken careful maneuvering and quick thinking to make excuses for her hasty retreats. The retreats were always made easier whenever Groves was nearby and thus she tried to attach herself to his side whenever they were on shore leave.

The three crew members who were the most aggressive in their efforts to hedon-ize her were George Hardy, John Thomas, and Henry Davies. The ship's cooper, Hardy was a tall, burly man, hard to avoid seeing at his height or berth. At heart he was a man of justice and loyal to his friends but on the outside he was a lover of starting quarrels, for the fun of quarreling. He was born of the leprechauns in Ashlynne's opinion, full of mischief and a lover of money.

The second most aggressive was John Thomas, one of gunners of the ship. He was not much older than her in reality and was a fine lad to banter with, when he wasn't under the influence of Hardy. He had the heart of a lover but the body of a bullfighter. The third most aggressive was Henry Davies, the surgeon's mate, a man devoted to his mother. When asked whom he loved most, his wife or his mother, he always chose his mother, though Ashlynne suspected that was because his wife was the world's most annoying nag.

A crash suddenly echoed through the tavern followed by loud curses and a few screams. Ashlynne watched in fascination as a beautiful young woman began to run down the stairs from above, covered in blue paint, followed closely by a man covered in red paint and another man, though he was clean compared to the other two. The two men were cursing in Italian while the woman was yelling in French. As she watched the commotion unfolding she realized that one of the Italians, the clean one, was one of her previous contacts from Venice. Gabriel had helped her procure a number of items for the scientific society, though always for a price.

"What in heavens name is going on?" Groves spoke nearby, standing up to get a better look at the group.

Ashlynne had to respect the woman for having such a large vocabulary, she hadn't heard such creative French cursing since her friend Francois had found out his fiancé had run off with an Englishman. As she watched and listened she smiled, finding the curses amusing. Martha had gone closer and was trying her best to calm the group down while her shipmates had ceased their revelry and were now craning their necks to see if any action was about to take place.

Martha was getting nowhere, the French woman was too interested in yelling at the Italians while the Italians were too preoccupied with yelling back and trying to clean off the paint to pay any heed to the poor bar maid. When she spotted a copper hovering at the door she sighed and stood up. She was probably the only one in the room who understood all the languages being yelled.

She tapped Groves on the shoulder to let him know of her intentions and he walked with her over to the group. Upon spotting her through the crowd Gabriel's face whitened only slightly—their last meeting had been her threatening to castrate him if he ever tried to double cross her again—before he nudged his friend and whispered something in his ear. His friend stopped yelling and also looked over at her. The woman, finding that the men were no longer yelling at her, also stopped yelling and turned attention to Ashlynne.

She quickly asked Gabriel what had happened, hoping that no one was guessing that they were previous associates. For his part Gabriel merely spoke to her as if she were no one to him. The French woman interrupted a number of times, this time in Italian as well, until she finally had drawn out the events that had lead to such an argument. She could barely keep from laughing but instead turned to Martha.

"It seems that this woman, Georgette, got into a heated discussion with this man here, Antonio, as to whose room was at the end of the hall and whose room was in the loft. Having taken a disliking to something that he called her she used the paint intended for your walls as retaliation. Not to be outdone he repaid her in kind. The argument became even more heated when this man, Gabriel, decided to come to his friend's rescue."

Martha stared wide eyed at the threesome for a moment before looking back to Ashlynne. "I'd like to know who's going to be paying for that paint! The whole lot of them can remove themselves until the damage has been paid for!"

Ashlynne relayed the information to Gabriel who glanced at Georgette then at Antonio. Georgette crossed her arms and glared at them, obviously unwilling to pay a shilling. Ashlynne made eye contact with Gabriel and covertly indicated the copper still hovering near the doorway. Gabriel stiffened, probably not wanting to meet any form of police force, and spoke hurriedly to Antonio who, for his part, slumped his shoulders and nodded.

"The men will pay for the damages as well as replacement paint." Georgette spoke up, tugging at her dress and growling at Italians. "The woman is wondering if you have a washroom that she may clean up in."

Martha nodded, "I'll show her." She reached forward and took Georgette's arm, throwing her own heated glare at the pair of Italians, before moving off down a hall.

Gabriela and Antonio moved to back up the stairs. Gabriel gave her a nod and she smiled slightly in return. Once they'd removed themselves the music began again and the tavern was once more filled with the sounds of revelry. Groves' voice near her ear made her jump slightly.

"That was quite impressive. I did not know that you spoke Italian."

Ashlynne smiled, "I have traveled quite a bit over the years. To be precise I know five languages: French, Gaelic, German, Italian, and Spanish."

"Actually that is not true," Groves drawled, "Ye know six languages, how else could you be conversing here in English?"

Ashlynne rolled her eyes at her friend. They returned to their table where they continued to trade jabs at one another. They were in the midst of an argument over the state of the French and English rivalry when they were interrupted yet again.

"Fancy seeing you here." a voice cut through the air like a sharp blade.

"Sally, how on earth did you get here?" Groves stood from the table and all gaped at the short woman suddenly standing before him. "Why are you here?"

Lady Sally Williams glared at Groves with her hands on her hips. She was disguised as a washerwoman and despised every moment she had to stand there covered in her filthy rags. Being disguised was the only way she could get past her father, and sadly, the only way she could get close to Groves without him immediately sending her back to her father's house. The daughter of one of the richest merchants who'd been awarded a lordship due to his exploits at sea, she had met Groves a few months prior at a ball. He had been there by invitation from one of his cousins, the trusted family cleric of the Williams family, and had met and sparked the interest from the young Lady Sally.

For his part he was flattered by her interest and did not, at first, dissuade her letters or attention. However, after about the third time of her finding him while on shore leave, he began to put distance between them, afraid of a scandal as well as afraid of being roped into a match he was interested in. It was not that the lady was not beautiful. Her black hair was a mass of curls woven in and out of a red scarf that tied around her head. Though short, she still had enough womanly curves to be considered very attractive and this showed through the raggedy dress that covered her body. Her skin was creamy white and had a sprinkling of freckles across her cheeks and nose, offsetting her chocolate brown eyes. She was quite beautiful to look at, even Ashlynne could see that, but it was her forceful nature and annoying habit of always showing up at random moments that made Groves a bit frightened of her. She took after her father in that when she saw something she wanted she went after it, like a tenacious bee.

"What does it matter when I'm finally here where I want to be?" Sally shook her small fist in Groves face, "This time you're not getting rid of me so easily!"

Ashlynne began to laugh at the memory of Sally's last "visit." She had come in the guise of an urchin to the tavern and had followed them through the markets then and had almost gotten away with it. If it had not been for Ashylnne's keen observation she probably would've followed them back to the docks. Upon discovering her, Groves had gone red in the face, out of anger or fear Ashlynne was not sure, and had as gently as possible escorted Sally back to her neighborhood where he left her near her house. She'd only left him be when he threatened to tell her father of her disguises and sneaking around.

"What's going to stop me? I already told you that if I caught you again I would tell your father about all this sneaking about. Do you think he'll ever let you out of the house again once he knows?" Groves stepped forward to take her elbow.

"I'll tell him that it was your idea. I'll tell him that you cannot live without me." Sally countered.

Ashlynne shook her head with a smile, "I do believe she fancies herself in love with ye."

"Too bad she's wasting her time!" Groves growled, rubbing the back of his neck. "I'm not interested in marrying her!"

Ashlynne watched as Sally winced at his words. He did not seem to notice the effect his words had and instead slumped back into his seat. Ashlynne glared over at Groves. He looked up and caught her glare and held up his hands.

"What? I exchange a few pleasantries with her and now I'm expected to marry her merely because she's convinced herself that I'm her true love?" Groves shook his head and looked back up at Sally. "You do not want to marry me Lady Sally. I am already married to the navy. You are the daughter of a lord," Groves stood again and lowered his voice to a gentle whisper, "you cannot expect that he'd ever approve of a match with me."

Sally clenched her jaw, "You must think me a daft fool." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath; Ashlynne knew the woman was fighting tears. When she opened her eyes again there was a fire in them that surprised Groves. "You're right, Theodore Groves, you're not man enough for me. It has been most amusing knowing you. I will not bother you again."

She gave a shallow curtsy before turning on her heel and weaving through the crowd towards the door. Ashlynne watched Groves open and close his mouth in surprise a few times before she sighed and stood up.

"I'll go talk to her but ye should follow shortly. She'll need someone to escort her back to her house and I think it should be ye." She didn't wait for a reply before she walked after Sally. She caught up with her just outside the tavern. The woman was leaning against the wall, a handkerchief dabbing at her eyes. "He just likes to be the one in pursuit, not the one pursued." She watched as Sally tensed at her voice but when the woman noted who she was she slumped back against the wall. "Ye should remember his upbringing. He is nay used to the idea of a woman being so forward as ye are."

Sally sniffed, her voice laced with bitterness, "You have to understand, my father only ever lets me associate with young dandies who all are eager to please him and not me. Theodore was the first man who did not know who I was when we first met. He only saw me as a pretty woman at a ball. He teased me, Ashlin, something no one has ever done before." She sighed and shook her head. "I cannot help myself when it comes to him. He's so different from all the rest. I do not want to marry any of the men my father expects me to. They would treat me as property where I know whomever Theodore marries he will treat as a queen. How can anyone expect me to act different in light of this fact?"

"Well," Ashlynne scratched her head and shrugged, "that may be true but perhaps ye should reconsider how ye approach the man eh? Mayhaps reevaluate your offensive maneuvers. He's a naval man, Lady Sally; approach him with strategy like a naval captain. I promise ye, he'll respond to clever strategy with more warmth than blatant aggression."

Sally looked at Ashlynne more directly then, her gaze intense and calculating. Ashlynne suddenly felt that she'd said too much, given away too much, and feared that the woman would guess her sex. In all the tales of cross dressers that she knew it was always members of the same sex who guessed the true nature of the cross dresser.

"How old are you Ashlin?" Sally stood up and faced her, tucking away the handkerchief.

"Eighteen, my lady." Ashlynne fell back on the rules of propriety to protect herself. In reality she was older than Lady Sally by three years but in her disguise the woman was merely a year older than herself.

"You are very wise for your age, Ashlin. Thank you." Sally reached out and laid her hand on Ashlin's forearm, surprising both of them.

Ashlynne cleared her throat, "Well, Groves is going to return ye to yer father's house." Groves had just begun to approach them, his eyes noting Sally's hand on Ashlynne's arm with confusion, as she said this. Sally didn't look too pleased but nodded. She let her hand fall from Ashlynne's arm and gave her a small smile. Ashlynne bowed her head and stepped away, watching with amusement as Groves glared at her before turning his attention towards the small woman in front of him.

As they walked away Ashlynne wished she could be privy to whatever conversation they were about to have. In the mean time, however, she needed a privy. She'd had entirely too much ale that evening. She wandered around to the backside of the tavern and pushed inside one of the doors, hoping that it'd be the privy.

Instead of a privy she found herself in the washroom. Hearing some noises off to her left she looked over and mentally yelled at herself not to blush when she found herself staring at three dripping wet men, all naked as the day they were born.

It wasn't that she had never seen a naked man before just not so many at once—even the natives she'd encountered had had loin clothes—and so close to her proximity. It took all the will power in her to keep her eyes above the waist and a furious blush from her face.

"Oi!" Having spotted her, Hardy drew closer and Ashlynne knew better than to stand still while the mischievous man made himself a threat. "What are you waiting for Ash-boy? This your last chance for a good scrub and with the help of a might pretty bunch of lasses." He threw a lusty glance over his shoulder at Mary and Martha—Ashlynne would never be able to hear the biblical story the same way again thanks to these two wenches—who for their part only adjusted the straps of their bodices to reveal, if possible, more skin.

"I donna think I need anyone's help getting clean but thank ye." She still kept her eyes above the waist but kept her eyes forward, smart enough to know better than to turn her back on these men.

Hardy signaled to Thomas who in turn nudged Davies. Ashlynne gulped. If she didn't beat a hasty retreat she'd be stripped in no time and then where would that leave her? A dripping, naked mess in a room full of equally naked and soon to be scandalized men. Where was Groves when she needed him?

"Well I say you stink and need a good washing." Hardy stalked closer, his eyes a light with mischief.

Ashlynne moved back with every step Hardy and the others took forward, her eyes darting from one man to another. Davies and Thomas began to try to flank her while Hardy continued his forward assault. She had nothing on her that she could use as a weapon or at least as a diversion so she could run away. It was just her clothes and her and it was looking like if she didn't work fast it'd just be her sans clothes.

"I can wash myself, Hardy. Thomas donna e'en think about it! Davies, I swear, I'm gonna find yer mum and tell her all about this if you donna stop!" Neither of the men hesitated as they continued forward.

Where was that bloody door? Surely it would be behind her by now!

"Och come on lad! It'll only hurt for a wee bit!" Davies threw Hardy and Thomas a grin.

Ashlynne shook her head, "I'd rather not find out." She turned on her heel and lunged for the door.

A hand suddenly grabbed her by the clothing around her neck and pulled her backwards. Before she knew what she was doing, she kicked back with one of her feet catching him in the shin, brought up her fist and hit him in the nose, then threw the stunned man over her shoulder. He landed with a thud at her feet and lay still for only a moment before his arm swept out and caught her ankles. She too landed with a thud beside him and didn't move for a moment as the breath began to come back into her body.

"I didn't know you had that in you!" Hardy was laughing at her side, thankfully he seemed to have set aside his quest for washing her and was instead amused with her ability to best him, though briefly.

Suddenly Thomas and Davies were standing above her, offering her and Hardy their hands. As she allowed Thomas to help her up, she averted her eyes as much as possible but found it quite hard considering the fact that he was proudly standing naked before her. Once standing, she quickly withdrew her hand from Thomas' and edged away from them.

"Oh it's all right lad, we will not force you anymore. I think Hardy's proof enough for us that you are not interested in the lasses aid." Davies chuckled. "I think you smell fine enough for a clerk. Besides, if the new lieutenant does not like the way you smell you will just have to answer to him."

Ashlynne nodded, though she didn't let down her guard, "I guess I will just have to take that chance now willnae I?"

The men laughed and nodded. As Martha and Mary stepped forward with their clothes Ashlynne retreated from the room. That had been entirely too close for comfort and she knew in her bones that it was only going to get worse once they set sail. Thankfully she was berthed in the cockpit with only Groves so that afforded some buffer between her and the rest of the men but still, she knew that for the next few months as sea there could not be one moment where she let down her guard or else her family would be doomed.


	3. An escort home

_((I personally feel the need to develop something for Theodore Groves before we move on. I always liked him in the movies and felt he didn't get enough air time. Don't worry, we'll get back to the original story soon enough. Enjoy the brief break though.))_

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They had walked a good portion of the way back into town in silence. They were not walking on the more trafficked streets, neither one of them wanted to risk running into acquaintances. However, Groves still kept a proper distance to Sally, standing just off from her elbow, ready to take it if a situation should arrive. Sally, for her part, kept her eyes lowered, not caring who might see her but also not wanting to make eye contact with Groves. She was still seething, from both embarrassment and anger, over his earlier words. The longer they walked in silence and he went without apologizing for hurting her the more she felt the anger win out over embarrassment.

Sally glanced over her shoulder and tried her best to read Groves' face. She would never admit it to him, or anyone else for that matter, but he actually frightened her in a way. The fact that she'd come to feel so much for him and yet he seemed unmoved, well she did not like the power he had over her. She didn't know why she even bothered thinking about the man when he seemed so uninterested; he always made her mad and was quick to return her to where he felt she belonged, not at his side.

"Why do you matter so much?" She questioned aloud, not really meaning to but suddenly not caring. When he didn't say anything but kept walking she growled, "Did you know that you are an ass?" Sally turned to face him, not caring when a passing man eyed her in surprise.

Groves raised a brow over her outburst and stopped walking. He didn't hate her, and he did find her attractive, but he couldn't quite figure out what he wanted to do with her. She represented a level of society he was not keenly interested in getting involved with. While his family was connected enough that, given advancement in naval ranks, a match between them would not scandalize society, but he was still reluctant to encourage any hope within her.

He had been an only child, all his siblings had died in childbirth, and his father had been a hard man. Any sign of passionate emotion was seen as a possible temptation to err and so he would work the emotion out of Groves. Groves had learned at an early age to be in control of his emotions, to show little of what he really felt, and keep his feelings to himself. Only a few were privy to his smile, Ashlin being one of them.

Lady Sally was an enigma of emotion. In Groves' mind women were not only emotional, but they were unpredictable at best and allowed their feelings to rule every decision they made. In marriage, they wanted to marry for love but often married for prestige, with children they nurtured through nurse maids, and they always described silly stuff, like clothing, with outrageous names for colors. Just what in the hell was periwinkle or violet? Was indigo even a color, he had always thought it was a flower. Sally was everything he imagined women to be; but he had never thought of the time when a woman would be interested in more than a passing dalliance with him.

"What do you mean, Lady Sally?" He put extra emphasis on her title, trying to remind her of her standing and as such that her earlier language was not exactly tolerable.

"You think that no matter how you treat me, I will always come back for more." Before Groves could interrupt Sally stepped forward, causing him to step back in response. "You feel that no matter how many times you are forced to return me to my father's house, I will come back, and always under a new guise." She stepped forward again and again he stepped back, just as she hoped. "Well you are wrong. I have reached my limit and soon I could be gone."

There was a look about her eyes that made him hold his tongue as she continued to advance on him. He didn't know why but this slip of a woman was backing him into a corner, literally and figuratively, and he knew not what to do about it. He wasn't certain if he didn't like the power she was suddenly exuding or if it was that very power that held him enthralled presently.

"I find it ironic, Theodore, that it is I who will be the one to tell you that there will soon come a day when you will wake up and find yourself alone. You will realize that the window of opportunity for prosperity hand-in-hand with happiness has passed you by and you will have to settle with contentment." She halted her steps, satisfied when his back was mere inches from the wall behind him. "Is that what you want, Theodore? Contentment? Do you want to wake up every morning content, go through your day content, and fall back asleep at night content? Is that really enough for you?"

Her words struck a chord inside him and he stiffened. His father had always told him to be content with his lot in life, to be content with what he had. It had been his mother who had encouraged him to seek life beyond the family. Now here was Sally, throwing that same challenge back in his face.

When Sally thought she was going to go cross-eyed from staring at the silent man, Groves moved. He reached up and set his hands on her shoulders and twisted until it was she who was leaning against the wall. Sally kept her eyes on his face, the face that was now so close that she could almost make out the freckles she knew to be on his nose in the lamp light. She did not know what to make of his sudden change, but she did know that he was making up his mind about something.

Groves was having a hard time concentrating on what he'd been inspired to say moments previous. Her face upturned towards his, his hands still on her shoulders, and her body so close that it was if they were lovers near embracing, it all distracted him from his original purpose. He could admit that she felt good, nestled almost against his chest, her softness contrasting with his strength. Groves felt Sally lean a little more into his arms and he had to shake his head slightly to bring himself back to the purpose at hand. He only barely understood his own reasons for suddenly being so physical with her.

"Why are you acting like this when you hate me?" Sally's voice reminded him that he had yet to explain himself.

He did not let loose his hold of her shoulders and she did not make any movements either, neither to push him away nor to move closer. She was looking at him with clear confusion written on her face, but there was a glimmer of curiosity there as well. Groves could not help himself; he reached up and brushed some wild strands of hair away from her face. Sally widened her eyes and stopped breathing for a second but she didn't say anything.

"I do not hate you, Sally." Groves smiled then, "I like you well enough but I just do not know what to do with you."

Sally quirked a brow, "You like me?" her voice was a pitch higher than usual.

"Well," Groves leaned his head back, his gaze critical, "as much as I can like a woman who continually throws herself at me without so much as an indication from me that the throwing would be welcome."

Sally tilted her head to the side in confusion. She was silent, what a miracle, as she gazed at him, pondering all that he had said. Groves kept himself from smiling; he could see every single emotion that was flashing through her mind. She probably did not realize how openly emotional she was, or how her eyes betrayed her thoughts, and he wasn't about to warn her about it either. It made it easier in dealing with her; at least he could always tell when she was about to do something, even if he did not know what she was going to do.

"Why are ye telling me this now?" Her voice was soft when she ventured her question.

Groves sighed on a shrug, "I do not know really; perhaps what you said about contentment reminded me of something I heard years ago, or perhaps it is was your accusation that I am an ass." Sally stiffened a little but didn't say anything. "But I suppose it could be because my curiosity has finally won out."

"Curiosity over what?" Sally seemed completely lost.

"Well," Groves leaned closer, his mouth just inches from her nose, "You represent a mindset completely opposite to my own. Despite our differences you have insisted upon making your interest known while I have neither been hot nor cold towards you. I have been curious as to whether or not an interest on my part could be pushed into one or the other if I were to," he paused and glanced over his shoulder to assure himself of their privacy, "well if I were to kiss you."

Sally gasped, shock written clearly across her face and her mouth dropped open. Sally was really surprised by his frankness, and he was a bit surprised that he had even told her but, oh well now. He would just ride out the waves of his actions, and hopefully, they would be pleasant waves instead of turbulent.

"You really should not have said all that, Theodore." Sally was flustered again.

Groves shrugged, the smile still on his lips, "Maybe not, but it is the truth and I have heard that the truth sets one free."

Sally began to wring her hands together, "You really should not have said that."

"Why, Sally?" He purposefully drew out her name, saying it in a huskier tone, enjoying the feel of turning the tide on her. Perhaps the ale had taken hold of him, in the morning he would certainly claim that, but at the moment he felt a freedom to express himself in ways he had never felt before.

Her eyes were especially wide when they returned to his face, "Because ye are tempting me to-"

Groves reached up and smoothed away some more hair, speaking softly as he did so, "To what?"

"Let you satisfy your curiosity." Sally's voice was strained.

Groves grunted in reply, making Sally even more nervous. What in the world was she doing? Why was he suddenly telling her things that made her toes curl and her heart pick up in pace at the thought of? No one had ever said such things to her before, and though she'd often dreamt of kissing the man before her, she had not thought it possible that he'd had the same thoughts as well.

Neither one planned what happened next; though Groves wished he had planned it because it was perfect. A stray cat howled off to their right, causing both of them to jump, and Sally to throw her hands up to clutch at his shoulders while leaning into him. When they realized what happened neither one of them drew apart immediately.

Sally was tense; she did not know what to do. Her hands held fistfuls of Groves' jacket while her body was pressed quite intimately into his. Groves' hands had also come up to rest on her ribs in order to steady her. Sally was suddenly very conscious of how his thumbs were inches away from brushing the undersides of her breasts, and how the warmth of his hands seeped into her body and made her tingle with awareness. She liked this. She was suddenly not at all afraid, or embarrassed. That was why she did not make a move to pull away.

Groves was thinking along the same lines, but he was also thinking of how much better it would be to move just a little bit and take Sally's mouth with his own. After a little bit of thought he decided to do just that, though he moved slowly so if she wanted to pull back she could. First, he tightened his hold on her ribcage. He felt her shiver slightly when he let his thumbs brush against her ribs. He smiled down into her eyes, loving the way her emotions were darting this way and that.

Right before he could kiss her, Sally suddenly pulled further away, a pensive expression flooding her face. She wanted this, she knew she did, but she also wanted Groves for more than just curiosity. She wanted commitment and a future. Now, with Groves saying these things and being so gentle and attentive, it would be so easy to just give in to a little curiosity and call it that. As she looked up into his eyes, she felt her stomach drop and her breath quicken. If curiosity was all she could get from the man then so be it. It was worth it.

She leaned up and pressed her lips against his, and he relished the way they felt like wet satin. She was so soft and innocent that Groves knew he should take it slowly, not rushing her, but the temptation to reach out with his tongue and trace her lips was almost too much to bear. When he breathed in, he smelled a faint alluring scent, the scent of woman mixed with nature and fresh air; it was enough to intoxicate a man. The kiss tasted sweet and held such longing that Groves pulled Sally even closer against himself until her chest was pressed against his own. He broke the soft kiss and moved his lips to her forehead, and then to her cheeks, and chin, all the while keeping his eyes open to gage her reaction.

Sally's eyes were closed and her head tilted backwards when he trailed a long line of hot kisses down her exposed throat to the spot above her wildly beating pulse. Feeling daring, and most likely inebriated, he licked the skin here, making Sally shiver and gasp in a mixture of shock and pleasure. He smiled wickedly in response.

Groves was being so gentle with her, going so slow that she was almost going crazy with anticipation. She had seen couples kissing, and they usually opened their mouths when they did so. When she had first seen it, it had intrigued her and made her a little uneasy, but now, with Groves' hands stirring great warmth throughout her body, Sally suddenly found the courage to reach down and pull Groves' head back up to her lips, her hands tangling in his hair as she did so.

Groves smiled against Sally's lips. He was both surprised and pleased with her sudden burst of courage but he was completely shocked when her tongue tentatively touched his lower lip, tasting him in a soft caress. His arms tightened and he had to quickly reign in his passion but he slowly returned the favor, letting himself indulge on these soft kisses. When he felt Sally relax into his arms again he opened his mouth a little wider, gently stroking his tongue along her lips, coaxing her mouth open then sliding his tongue in.

Sally stiffened a little, not knowing exactly what she thought of this new experience, but when Groves began to massage her lower back with his fingers, she immediately relaxed and followed Groves' lead. Their tongues met and moved together, sliding back and forth in a natural rhythm. She tightened her hold on his hair, and moved her other hand across the nape of his neck and up toward the top of his skull, holding him for the kiss. She softened even more against him, melting, and conforming to his own body. She could not stop the moan that vibrated from her throat at the sensations he was causing to awaken within her.

Groves opened his mouth wider and shifted angles, so he could have more, because it was driving him crazy in the most exquisite way. He felt Sally move against him and he could feel the both of them start to get desperate, her movements suddenly more wanton then he would've expected coming from her, his hands getting a little rougher than he would have liked.

Deciding it was time to end the kiss that had dragged into many kisses, Groves pulled away. Sally didn't mean to allow him to though, and ended up following him. When Groves leaned even further away, Sally leaned as well. Any average woman would have gotten the subtle hint to stop and pull away, but not Sally. She was dead set upon continuing her satisfaction of curiosity. They ended up leaning so far that Groves lost his balance and they ended up in a heap on the ground.

Sally gasped when she landed on Groves' chest, almost straddling him on the ground. Why had he been so intent upon ending the kiss when it had only begun to get really good? It wasn't like they could do anything more on a deserted street, or was there? Though not as educated as some ladies, she did know what went on in the bedrooms of married couples. It didn't scare her at all, just made her curious. She did know that what happened there most certainly couldn't happen here. Or could it?

Sally frowned as she sat up and pushed the hair out of her face so she could look down at Groves, who still remained lying on the ground beneath her. He was quickly coming back to his senses and did not seem to like lying on the ground all that well from the frown passing over his brow

"What are you frowning for?" Groves chuckled, his hand reaching up to cup her face, "It isn't like I landed on you on the cold ground."

Sally blushed and quickly rolled off the now chuckling Groves. She glared at him but said nothing, the blush in her cheeks saying more than words ever could. She certainly was a character, his Sally. One minute she's close to ravishing him, the next she's blushing because he teased her a bit. Yes, a life with her would never be dull.

Groves suddenly frowned as well. When had he started calling her _his_ Sally and thought of any possible future with her? She would never be his, there was no way, and so there would be no future with her. Why was everything so confusing all of a sudden? He'd only meant to satisfy a thought and now… Groves sighed and brushed himself off as he stood. It was probably the ale, Ashlin's silent condemnation, and Sally's accusations all rolled together.

"We should get going," Groves bent down and helped Sally stand, "You're father must certainly be missing you by now."

He didn't know if he jerked too hard or if she naturally had no sense of balance, but she ended up in his arms once again. Sally's face was turned up towards his, her arms clutching his shoulders again, her body pressed tightly against his own. One of his hands now rested on her hip while the other was on her shoulder. They were in a position that many lovers took upon a farewell, a position that he had spent many years making fun of and laughing at. However, he certainly wasn't laughing now.

"Are you going to kiss me again Theodore?" Sally's voice had gone all husky and Groves found himself clenching his jaw in reaction.

"I would rather not, Sally."

Sally frowned slightly and tilted her head to the side, "Why?"

"Because," Groves finally gave into his urge to smooth some of her flyaway hairs, "I need to return you to your father's house without tarnishing your reputation."

Sally's face suddenly brightened, "So does that mean that you satisfied your curiosity and know what you want now, to kiss me?"

Groves rolled his eyes heavenward and sighed. Heavens, this woman was trying on a man's will power. She had no sense of propriety, no thought for her reputation, no understanding of the power of her beauty and innocent seduction, and absolute trust in his character. What was he supposed to do with her except marry her?

The thought near struck him blind and his hold on her tightened for a moment. He could do worse than marry a woman that loved him and who he found himself attracted to, perhaps, even beginning to love in return. Yes, they had not known of each other for as long as he would like before contemplating marriage, but the future was so uncertain, and having her in his arms was so different from that.

"Aye I have satisfied my curiosity and would like to kiss you." He smiled then. "I know what I want from you."

Groves should've known better than to tell her the truth. Before he could take another breath he had Sally wrapped completely around him, her lips pressed enthusiastically against his own. He didn't know whether to laugh or to cry, but he did know that if they kept this up they were never going to get her to her father's house. Having made up his mind, of sorts, he was more determined than ever to protect her from scandal.

"Sally," he pulled back and shook his head at her, "I really must return you to your father's house, and now. I do not think any of us want you to be involved in a scandal."

Sally reluctantly drew back and nodded. She still wasn't quite certain what he wanted from her but from the way he looked at her, kissed her, and now seemed quite content with holding her hand in his own as they continued on their way, she had an inkling that things were beginning to shape up in her favor after all.

For his part, Groves knew that Ashlin was going to tease him to hell and back once he confessed. And he would confess because he had yet to be able to keep anything from the young man.

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_((Not going to entreat you for reviews though I am interested in feedback on how you think it is going thus far and critiques on staying in canon or etc.)) _


	4. Initial Observations

"Get yer mind on yer task man!" Ashlynne growled at Groves once they were alone in their cabin and the door safely shut.

Groves pulled off his hat and wig and ran a hand through his hair, tossing the offending objects on his bunk. "I am trying. I just cannot seem to concentrate."

"I bet I can guess as to why." Ashlynne snorted at the glare he sent towards her. "In any case, we are pullin' out tomorrow at tide and can nay afford to give that high and mighty lieutenant any reason to delay that. If ye donna wrap yer mind around the present and out of pretty petticoats we are all gonna pay."

Groves lay on his bunk with a sign, his arm tossed across his eyes, to block out the world no doubt. He had indeed not had his mind on task all day and more than once, whenever she'd managed to venture beyond her station in the chart room, she'd had to nudge him back into his duties. Scatter brained didn't even begin to explain how the man had acted all day. After coming in the night before a wee bit tipsy and very giddy in an entirely different fashion from drink, she'd known that he and the Lady Sally had finally realized that the Lady had good instincts in her assumption that they'd be a good match—it had only taken Groves a long time to realize the truth of the matter.

Ashlynne hid her knowing smile and went about the routine of readying for sleep. With only the two of them in the cabin it didn't take much maneuvering to maintain her privacy and keep her sex in disguise. That was one reason why she'd made sure to have her contacts get her the job as clerk. It was a civilian position and so while she was subject to the rules of the navy she did not have to keep as close an eye on all the regulations and she also had some wiggle room that the rest of the crew did not. She was there to keep an eye on the records and daily logs, not hoist the sails or keep watch. It was a physically less demanding job and she was overall better suited to this task without risking her disguise.

Well, at least as long as that blasted Lieutenant Norrington kept his eyes to himself. It had been a long and grueling last day in port of double checking stores and records and last minute preparations, not made any easier by Groves being absentminded and groggy. The rest of the crew, at least a good lot of them, had nursed a hangover at the beginnings of the day but after a few minutes of Lieutenant Norrington's "care" they'd magically cured themselves.

What was perhaps the most frustration about the lieutenant, for her at least, was her awareness of him, not only as a possible threat to her disguise but also as a man. She understood her shipmates to be men well enough, they never let her forget that, but she did not find herself drawn to any of them in the way she fought with the lieutenant. Almost from the moment his honeyed voice had sounded near her ears on that first day months ago—even in her memories she was painting exaggerated pictures of his allure, how pathetic—she'd found it more and more difficult to keep her attention entirely on her figures and charts and records whenever he came close to look over her shoulders.

She was sure that was part of the reason he watched her so closely. He must sense her interest—she couldn't deny anymore that she, against better judgment, found him attractive and intriguing—in him. While he hadn't, as yet, placed the reason why—she was sure he had not—he had sensed it. No man got to be a lieutenant in the king's navy without good observation skills and intuition. More than once she'd found herself staring at his hands or his chin—heaven forbid his lips too—and then found him looking back at her, face blank though eyes alert. Each time this happened, it had taken every ounce of willpower to not overreact at having been caught staring, as well as fight the blush that her feminine side demanded she show.

For her part, today, she'd been able to keep him happy enough and her staring down to a minimum. He'd found nothing to complain about with her records and organization skills and he hadn't watched her too keenly. Perhaps he'd been too preoccupied with yelling at surly sailors and hazy officers. With the way they'd operated that day she was sure they'd make it to their next port o' call without harm, but if certain members of the crew didn't snap out of the love-induced haze they were currently in then there could be issues once on the high seas towards Port Royal.

At the thought of their upcoming arrival in Port Royal she felt her gut clench. As she lay down and blew out the light in their cabin she sent up a silent prayer for her family. True to his threat, Ingram had sent word to her of her family's current situation, and included a few notes written in their own hands to be held as evidence. As of yet he had not harmed them, other than verbal abuse and frustration, but that could quickly change if things took too much longer.

With so little time left, only a matter of months really, she was more determined than ever to work fast. Nothing could stand in her way, not even peevishly handsome lieutenants and love-giddy cabin mates. She couldn't afford to lose any more of her family and hope to remain sane.

Her parent's murder, and the subsequent betrayal of the family's supposed allies to the very man who'd murdered them, had done a number on all the Fitzpatrick's. That was perhaps one of the reasons why she'd made such an effort to take on a role in life that was so out of character for women, not to mention Irish women. That was definitely one of the reasons she was so willing to risk everything now. Enough blood had been shed in the Fitzpatrick family. They had more than earned a right to live long and peaceful lives. She just needed to get them this last piece of hope in order to live out that right.

Understanding that staying awake late in the night worrying would accomplish nothing but a headache and a harder time concentrating the next day, Ashlynne rolled over and let her eyes fall shut. She could already hear Groves' steady breathing and smiled. He wasn't bad as a cabin mate and she hoped that once this was over she could find him and call him friend.

That was, of course, only if she managed to get out of this alive.

* * *

Lieutenant James Norrington knew that the watch was set, the men alert, and all was ready for when they set sail the next day. He knew these things and yet here he stood, on deck, staring across the neighboring ships at dock. His mind was wandering far and near, double checking procedures, analyzing ways in which things could be improved, and yet, time and again, straying to the image of the lad.

James frowned slightly and resisted the urge to rub at his brow. It was an old habit, one he'd picked up from his mother, but it was a habit that made obvious whenever he was troubled or deep in thought. It never bode well for him to betray such facts to those around him, especially those beneath him in rank. Instead he tightened his grip on the rail and leaned out a little further.

Something was amiss about the lad Ashlin Fitzpatrick, James was sure of that. He didn't know what it was or if it was dangerous but he knew that something just wasn't right about him. For as open and playful as he appeared to be with the man Groves, the lad was almost downright skittish around the rest of the crew and clammed up like a shellfish whenever he came round. He spoke only when spoken to whenever James was around and more than once James had found the lad staring at him with an awareness that just didn't sit right coming from a male clerk.

If he was going to be honest with himself, James shook his head and frowned, he would have to admit that he had been drawn to the lad from almost the time when he'd first seen him at the on the ship laughing with Groves. It had been his first day after the transfer. He had just finished reporting to the captain and was getting the tour of the ship when he'd heard laughter. Laughter itself was not foreign to naval ships, the _Dauntless_ included, but it was the pitch and type of laughter that made him pause.

When his eyes had finally pinpointed the source of laughter he'd had to mentally shake himself. While the laughter had held a musical quality almost solely unique to the weaker sex, it was instead coming out of a bare-faced lad of no more than eighteen. He was sitting atop a barrel beside one of the lesser officers and the pair were obviously trading jests whilst breaking the noon meal.

The lad's hair, shortly cropped about his head, was the type of black that almost shone deep blue in the right lighting, and the noon sun was indeed the right lighting. James didn't have to be close to know that his eyes were most likely a bluish tint. He had the look of the Irish about him, from his pale skin and lanky limbs, to the lilt he heard in the lad's voice even from the distance that he was.

It wasn't until later when all the crew had been introduced that he learned of the lad's name and position as civilian clerk on ship, as well as confirmation of his Irish heritage and blue eyes. His eyes were in fact the color of the sea outside Port Royal, a rich color not easily forgotten. The poor lad was most likely picked on by his shipmates for having such an otherworldly look about his face—from his knowledge of folklore the fairies of Ireland were called the Tuatha de Dannan and most likely the boy was accused of being one of them from his large eyes, upturned nose, and pointy chin. He was not overly skinny but neither was he muscular, and had probably yet to grow into his limbs, if his baggy clothes betrayed anything about his physique.

In any regards, James found his awareness of such facts about the lad to be somewhat troublesome. To know the color of a clerk's eyes, in addition to having assumptions about his physique, was quite troublesome indeed. He could not quite pinpoint why he was so aware of the lad, nor what he expected of the awareness, but he did know for certain that the lad was aware of him too. Whether or not it was the same sort of confusing intrigue that he felt, or if it was just feeding off of his own, he hadn't yet decided. Perhaps once they were at sea and his mind had other things to focus on, such as safe passage of the new governor of Port Royal and his daughter whom they would pick up at their next port of call, would cure him of this confusing interest.

He heard someone approaching and looked up to find his sub-lieutenant Gillete approaching. The man was capable and would make a fine captain one day, James was certain of that. He nodded to him before looking back out at the port.

"The crew is eager to be at sea." Gillete stopped once he stood beside him and also gazed out at the sleepy masts.

James nodded, "They'll find themselves there soon enough."

They stood silent for a few moments before Gillete gave him the crew roster report for the evening. A few of the crew members had had to visit the doctor but were back and settling in. James nodded at the report and let silence fall between them again before he stood up straight again and clasped his hands behind his back.

"Have you noticed anything odd about the clerk Fitzpatrick?"

Gillete shook his head, "He's a bit shyer than most on board and he keeps mostly to the midshipman Groves. I have noted a number of men have taken a liking to teasing him for his gentle ways. He's an able bodied clerk though and not too bad with a sword as far as I've noted sir."

Gillete was correct in his observation. James had seen Ashlin practicing with a few of the other crew members, though mostly with Groves. He'd bested the majority of them, able to use his size and agility against the larger sailors. He moved on his feet with a grace that James had rarely seen in men, yet another thing that set him on alert. He was less keen with the muskets though and had earned a nickname amongst the sailors after an accident that had left James' heart beating a bit faster than it normally would have had it been just a normal clerk at risk— yet another fact that he found troublesome indeed.

"Thank you." James nodded to Gillete before moving off towards his cabin.

He would not be able to answer his questions about the lad tonight, nor in the morning. He would continue to keep his eyes open and his senses on alert for any signs of danger or further strangeness. He was determined to prove himself as a capable lieutenant and would not allow unbidden fascinations for civilian clerks distract him from that endeavor.


	5. Of mishaps and conversations

Early misgivings aside, it had thus far been an easy enough week of sailing. No major storms or mishaps had occurred; well no mishaps save the "accidental" man overboard incident that the ship was currently recovering from. James stood with Gillete and the captain as the rest of the mid-ship crew recovered the "lost" man. While he hadn't seen the actual act he'd heard about it from Gillete and could picture it easily enough.

The boy, Ashlin, had been out with her cabinmate Groves during their luncheon when a few of the crew members had approached the pair. Some loose words were traded, a few challenges thrown down, and then a fight had broken out. From his understanding, there were no hard feelings amongst any of the crew, just a few of the lads had taken it upon themselves to "toughen up" the clerk and Groves had only gotten in the way. James understood the jests and tests fellow shipmates put each other through and was surprised that Groves had even stepped in between the lot.

In any case, as Gillete relayed, Ashlin had managed to evade all hits swung at him, though Groves had not been so lucky, and had been scurrying away up the rigging when the man in pursuit, the ship's cooper Hardy, had gotten thrown off balance and tossed into the sea. James had a hard time picturing the rest, as he'd seen little action out of the clerk aside from laughing and writing, but Gillete and the captain had both been witness to it. Ashlin went from scurrying away to acting as savior. He'd managed to tie himself off to the rigging and jumped in after Hardy within moments of the man's fall. It had been the cries of encouragement from the crew that had brought James out of the chart room and onto deck with the other officers.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the captain smile as both Ashlin and Hardy were finally hauled onboard in a heap of tangled, wet flesh. The clerk was almost immediately on his feet, untying himself and attempting to get away back to his cabin. However, he was held back by Hardy's mates, Thomas and Davies, as well as by Groves. The rest of the crew drew closer and soon had Ashlin hoisted over their shoulders in delight, tossing the boy up and down in celebration as Hardy continued to catch his breath and recover on deck.

"It seems our clerk is a man of many talents." The captain commented from his left. "He can organize charts and logs even when you purposefully sabotage his efforts Lieutenant, avoid hits as if he were born on the boxing ring, and apparently swim like a fish." The captain turned to move back into the chart room. "Make sure that he gets an extra serving of ale tonight Lieutenant."

"Aye sir." James nodded and waited until the captain was out of ear shot before he turned to Gillete. "Let them have a few more moments of fun but then get them all back to work. I'm going to have a word with the clerk."

He didn't wait to hear Gillete's reply before he left down the stairs and towards the now retreating clerk. He'd managed to extract himself from the rest of the crew and was currently making his way towards his quarters. As James drew closer he took in the appearance of the lad with hidden amusement. His shirt had been tugged away from his skin and now hung limply around him, though James could detect traces of skin color through the thin material. It looked as if the lad wore a shirt beneath his outershirt, an odd thing to do, but he wasn't going to fault him. Perhaps Ashlin did it to make himself look bulkier and tougher.

It was when his eyes traveled down from the sagging shirt that James was appalled to realize that he noticed how the lad's breeches now clung to his legs like a second skin, emphasizing strong but lithe muscles and almost feminine hips. His eyes lingered a moment longer than was heterosexually appropriate before he cleared his throat and tore his eyes away from the rather shapely bum he'd been unexpectedly ogling.

"Mr. Fitzpatrick." James noticed how the clerk's shoulders tensed as if he'd been struck. When he turned to face him, however, his face was calm, albeit wet from sea water. James chose to ignore how the water caused the auburn hair to stick to the lad's forehead and now droplets began to streak down his face and down his neck. "That was a noble thing to do. The captain commends you for your bravery and authorized an extra ration of ale tonight as reward."

The clerk maintained eye contact and his face was passive but James got the distinct feeling that he desperately wanted to say or do something that would perhaps not be wise. He knew this from the way the lad angled his body sideways, kept his shoulders squared, and his chin up. A moment passed until the lad loosened his stance and jerked his head in acknowledgment. He turned back towards his cabin.

"Mr. Fitzpatrick." James couldn't stop the irritation from entering his voice. He'd just complimented him and told him of his reward and he had nothing to say in return? He waited until the clerk turned to face him again, though he'd shaken out his damp hair and it hung in front of his face by now, sheltering a good portion of his eyes from sight. This did nothing but further James' irritation since he'd earlier found himself staring into them wondering why they appeared to be so hypnotic. "I expect a great deal more respect from you. When a superior officer addresses you, though you are a mere civilian, you are still expected, by contract, to properly reply."

The lad's jaw tensed and again James got the sense that the lad wanted to do something but it was only a moment before the lad nodded and bowed his head slightly, "I apologize, sir," he definitely put more emphasis on the "sir" than was necessary, James noted, "I will be sure to thank the captain the next time I see him for his generosity. Is there anything else that you need of me sir? I would like to change into dry clothing before returning to my duties, sir."

The mention of his clothes had James' eyes straying downwards again, though he quickly brought his eyes back up when he realized what he'd been about to do. He tensed his jaw and nodded, giving a little wave but no verbal reply before he turned on his heel and hurried back up the stairs to the poop deck. What was it with the cursed lad?

* * *

She couldn't believe they hadn't guessed her sex, her clothes were molded her to skin and only by carefully standing and angling her body had she been able to keep from being discovered. Ashlin tore into her cabin and latched it. Perhaps the age-old saying that one sees what one wants to see was correct. Within moments she had her wet clothing off and hurriedly pulled on dry ones. It had all gone horribly wrong so quickly. She'd acted without thinking about her disguise and that fact could not make her any angrier. This was not a vacation or a social experiment. The lives of her family members were at stake!

Her anger at herself had not lessened but had grown in fact, and found a new target, when that damn lieutenant came up to her when she was just shy of freedom. Her instinctive reaction had been to fight, but then remembering her location and rank she'd managed to communicate politely enough. Thankfully she'd managed to pull her shirt away from her body and wring it about a bit, after she extracted herself from her shipmates and so the lieutenant was none the wiser. His uppity attitude had gotten under her skin of course, as it always did.

How she could find herself so attracted to such a prat she'd never know. Ashlynne growled to herself as she toweled off her hair before hanging up her clothes to dry, the lone window in the cabin propped open for the breeze. He seemed to be just as aware of her as she was of him and that did not bode nicely for her. Today should've been the day that he guessed her sex, if hell really was as close to her heels as she felt it to be. However, he'd surprised her and did little more than turn his nose up at her. She should've been grateful for that fact, but instead she found herself frustrated with her own sense of disappointment.

Did she expect him to suddenly open his arms and welcome a lying, cross-dressing female into his arms whilst onboard a British naval ship? She could hang for what she was doing, even with her background and high up contacts. She was not authorized by anyone other than herself to be doing this as she was. If caught, she'd be strung up and abandoned by all but her family. If caught, her family would be doomed to destruction as well. And the pretty lieutenant would know none of this. He'd scorn her and watch her feet kick after the short drop through the wooden planks.

Readjusting her bindings and double checking her appearance one last time, Ashlynne jerked open the cabin door and made her way back to the charting room to resume her logs. She knew she was over exaggerating the lieutenants supposed reaction. He was a rational man; she knew this from observing his interactions with the crew around her. He did not often allow his emotions to dictate how he treated the crew or when he delved out discipline. If worse came to worse and she had to reveal her identity, as long as she had her speech planned out and evidence handy, she figured he may at least forgive her and perhaps would try to keep her from hanging and only push for life imprisonment.

Ashlynne hoped the the lieutenant had vacated the charting room but was disappointed, or satisfied—she still couldn't quite tell—to find him still in there, plotting something or another. He glanced up at the sound of her arrival but did nothing more than notice her dry clothing before returning to his task. She mentally sighed. She should not be disappointed in his dismissive stance. She should relish it.

Ashlynne sat on the stool and picked up her quill and looked back over the parchment in front of her. She would lose herself in her duties, that always seemed to help. She would ignore him just as he was ignoring her and they would strike up a truce in their silence. At least she hoped they could.

* * *

James glanced over at his silent companion. Ashlin certainly lacked in the conversation department. Upon returning the lad had almost looked disappointed to find him in there. Did the clerk think that this was his domain only? He hadn't said anything however, only sniffed and sat down to resume whatever he'd been doing prior to his "swim."

Either James scared the hell out of the lad and he was too intimidated to speak, or Ashlin just didn't feel like talking. Either explanation would work, but James seriously hoped it was the first. He hated it when the younger lads were intimidated by not only his skills but also his rank. He didn't expect the lad to warm up to him as a mate, like he had with Groves, but more than the quiet observations and awareness would be welcome.

"Mr. Fitzpatrick." He smirked when he saw the quill nearly drop from the lad's hands. Why he found amusement in his effect on the lad he wasn't quite sure, but it amused him none the less. "It seems that you and I have not been able to engage in much more than impolite exchanges."

The lad didn't look up from his paper but nodded, "Yes, sir?"

"I think we should change that." Ashlin finally looked up and over at him, his face a giant question mark. "Where do you call home lad?"

"No where really just wherever me family is." James noticed how the lad seemed to have difficulty swallowing. "We've always traveled around, so I learned from an early age to nay put stock in a place as a home but rather in people."

"Why did your family travel so much?"

The lad smiled to himself and James felt a strange heat spark in his chest in response, "Weel, it was mostly me and me cousins who traveled. Me younger sister remained home with the rest of the family, she wasnae as inclined towards the strange and unknown as we were. Being lads as we were," The lad put a strange emphasis on the last comment but James didn't put much stock in it as he listened, "And are, we naturally felt the allure of adventure in strange and far off places. Therefore, we banded together and took off, nay stayin in one place for too long. We worked odd jobs while we out there, keepin only as much money as we needed and sendin the rest home. That's where I learned how to keep records and logs and the like." The lad sighed with a contented smile and seemed to be in a far off place, "Those years were the best years of me life thus far."

James was surprised at much the lad had spoken, in general and of himself. James had assumed that Ashlin would've told half truths or tiptoed around the questions instead of answering them. Perhaps, there was more to the lad than met the eye. "Well Ashlin," James spoke aloud with a snort, "You're still quite young, I'm sure you've got more good years coming."

James mentally groaned. He sounded like an idiot. The lad only nodded before turning back to his parchment, leaving James alone with his self-loathing. Why did he care what the lad thought of him? He was a superior officer in the royal navy. He would probably go further than the lad in terms of rank in society.

"What about ye lieutenant?"

James looked up from the chart he hadn't been focusing on, "About me?"

Ashlin was looking at him strangely but repeated himself, "Are these the best years of yer life? 'ave you traveled much, beyond just to and from with the navy? Where do ye call home?" When James didn't immediately answer the lad blushed and began to turn back to his parchment. "Forgive me if me questioning ye in the same way ye questioned me is considered impertinent."

James was certain Ashlin didn't mean one bit of the apology but he wasn't offended. He was beginning to understand that Ashlin had a biting sense of humor that could easily be overlooked or confused with politeness. James was happy to have noticed this so quickly.

"I do not believe that a certain period of time can be considered the best or worst of a life. One's life is a continuous journey and while at the time it may feel as if it were 'best' or 'worst' you cannot know for certain that is until you are at the end of your days and can look back with full understanding of all the events in your life. That being said, I am quite content with my life as it is. I have not traveled outside the navy nearly as much as you claim to have done. As for my home, it is wherever the navy sends me."

Ashlin seemed more than satisfied with his reply, nodding his understanding and turning back to his parchment. James felt both satisfied that he'd answered, frustrated that he'd revealed so much though the lad most certainly did not realize that he had, and disappointed that the clerk seemed more interested in staring at his parchment than continuing their conversation. James didn't know why he kept wanting to look at the lad. It was most exasperating, and confusing. It made him uncomfortable and at ill ease. That, coupled with his confounded desire to continue the pleasant, though awkward, conversation, probably prompted the next question.

"Are you interested in marriage and family, Mr. Fitzpatrick?"

He watched in fascination as the lad not only dropped his quill but also went solid as a stone. An odd reaction to an odd question, for sure, but James didn't comment on it. He was surprised he'd asked the poor lad the question but now that he'd asked he couldn't take it back. He watched as Ashlin stood from his stool to retrieve the quill, wiping it on the cloth on the table, before setting it back in the ink well.

"I havenae really thought of marriage to tell ye the truth." It sounded as if the lad was choosing his words carefully. "I suppose someday I do want to settle down and raise children, but I nay really saw a woman in my future."

Interesting reply, obviously carefully thought out. James nodded and he looked down at his chart, wondering if the lad would again try to get him respond in kind. He was not disappointed when he heard Ashlin clear his throat.

"And ye, lieutenant, will ye one day settle down with a missus and raise future naval officers together?" James got the distinct feeling that the picture Ashlin just painted was amusing to the lad, though his outward features betrayed nothing but polite interest.

James tipped his head to the side and narrowed his gaze on the lad, "The navy is my missus, Mr. Fitzpatrick." A flash of amusement that almost bubbled into laughter was obvious in the lad's eyes but he nodded quietly. "But should a woman of quality show herself compatible with the lifestyle of a naval officer then yes I will marry and we will raise a family together. Make no mistake, the navy is my lifeblood first and foremost."

The lad maintained his gaze for a few moments longer. The amusement was gone from his eyes and in its stead seemed a hint of, was that understanding or pity? A heartbeat more passed with their gazes locked before Ashlin nodded and turned back to his parchment. James felt that their conversation had gone on long enough. The room suddenly felt a little warmer, and smaller, and his charting had long since been done with.

"Do not forget about that extra ration of ale tonight, Mr. Fitzpatrick." He spoke over the lad's shoulder, fascinated when in response his fingers tightened on the quill. "I enjoyed our exchange here. Perhaps this can be how we communicate from now on." James didn't wait for a response before he moved out of the room and out into the sea air. A welcome difference after such a odd exchange.

* * *

Once he was gone she sighed in relief. Of course the small smile on her face turned to a frown when she noticed the deplorable work she'd been doing while in his presence. Shaking her head she began to the process of correcting her errors, a process that always served as a much needed humbling experience.

During their "polite exchange" she'd almost panicked more than once and had to swallow past a lump of fear. In answering him she knew she could go with half-truths, vague truths, or bold-faced lies—none of which left a good taste in her mouth. On the other hand, she could tell the complete truth and just let him assume her answer was coming from a man. She'd opted for that and found that telling him the truth, from the guise of a man, was most satisfying. Of course, being able to communicate with him rationally despite their "awareness" was satisfying as well.

Ashlynne didn't know what it was about him that made her so edgy but every time he turned his eyes towards her she felt like doing one of two things. One: confess her sins to him and fall at his feet for mercy, or two: throw herself into his arms and kiss him like there was no tomorrow. Ashlynne smiled suddenly. It was probably the latter idea that made her uncomfortable, because not only did James not know how close he was to being ravished every time he looked at her so closely, but also she couldn't afford to give into her more carnal yearnings

Ashlynne suddenly stiffened and snapped her mouth shut when she remembered his line of questioning. He was serious, and very curious, about her. She fascinated him; she didn't have to be gifted with mind reading to know this. While their conversation had done some good to ease the tension between them it also opened up more windows of opportunity for her to mess up or him become more curious about her.

Ashlynne groaned and shook her head. That extra ration of ale would be most welcome.

* * *

James shook his head and downed the rest of his tea. He seriously needed to get his mind off Ashlin. After he'd left the cabin and strolled about on deck, making sure the crew was at work, he'd found that his mind was still in the cabin with the clerk. More than once he'd had shake his mind free of the confusing lad in order to concentrate on his conversation with either the captain or Gillette.

James glanced over to where the lad leaned against the rail, his gaze on the circle of shipmates who'd pulled out their instruments and were currently attempting to create an impromptu performance for them all. The captain had authorized it only as a reward for a job well done, and a life saved.

As he observed the lad James frowned. There really was not anything spectacular about Ashlin; he was tall and lanky, not large enough to be a true fighter, but very quick and stealthy, as proven from the earlier "mishap." His smile was charming, er, handsome enough and his laugh was indeed infectious. But none of that should have captured his attention the way he had.

Ashlin must have sensed his gaze as he turned his head and stared straight into his eyes. James clenched his jaw and tightened his hold on the cup but didn't shift his gaze. There was a challenge in them, the spark of awareness yes, but also a vulnerability that James was surprised he hadn't noticed before. They continued to stare at each other, dark green orbs staring into honey, until some of the men suddenly began to sing.

Ashlynne jumped from where she was leaning against the rail and quickly shifted her gaze down to the planks of wood beneath her feet. That had been too close for comfort. If the man did not know she was a woman already, surely he would know soon if she continued to stare at him like that. She had not meant to stare that long, mere curiosity over whether or not he was still looking at her had made her turn her head. It was just that his eyes were so mesmerizing, and it felt so comfortable and warm just to stare at him. Ashlynne frowned as she downed the last of her ale.

James frowned as well, not at all understanding his attraction and curiosity for this lad. He was not like men who were attracted to other men, he had always been attracted to women, but here he was ogling a poor lad. James shook his head as he stood up and walked up the stairs, away from the confusing lad.

There had been enough tension for one day. Though neither said this, they were both in agreement with the sentiment.


	6. Daydreams

Ashlynne didn't have to look up from the charts to know that it was James who moved into the room and was currently "browsing" the charts and maps that lined the walls. That silly man was seriously bothering her. Okay so most of his bothersome traits were his uncanny ability to make her nearly melt at just a look, his great looks-quite delicious in fact—his wonderful smiles, his smell, how wonderful it felt to have him so close to her...she growled and concentrated harder on the words on the pages in front of her. He was a distraction that she didn't need, and certainly didn't want.

In the week or so since they'd retrieved the new Governor Swann and his daughter Elizabeth and had steered onto their course for Port Royal she'd had more than a few "polite exchanges" with the lieutenant. With each passing conversation/exchange, she found her heart warming more to him, and got the distinct feeling that something of a similar nature was occurring within him as well. The advantage she had over him in this regard was that she did not have to doubt her sexual orientation. More than once she'd taken note of him almost physically shaking himself whenever his eyes had strayed, and that had only been the few times she'd seen it; heaven knew how many other times he did that.

"Have you updated the duty roster?" He asked once he was standing near her chair, a log book in hand.

Ashlynne gave him an odd look but nodded. He was searching for something, some sort of information, from her. He didn't often come in here during the morning watch. He was usually out and about on board, catering to Governor Swann, or entertaining the young Miss Swann. Something had gotten to him since they'd fished that boy up the day before.

She too found his presence alarming. The obvious remains of the pirate attack had been enough to put her on high alert but to also find a survivor, when there were not often any survivors of pirate attacks, well that had her double guessing everyone and everything. The boy's life had been saved on purpose, by the pirates or by the victims of the attack she was not certain, just as she wasn't certain if he was truly amnesiatic or just a world-class actor.

Even the Miss Elizabeth seemed to have become a changed child since the boy was retrieved. Where she'd been an open and curious girl before she was now suddenly a bit more skittish and, while that could be logically attributed to having witnessed the remains of what reality was in the seas around these areas, Ashlynne had a feeling that the skittishness came from something that the girl was hiding.

After the boy, Will, had been fished aboard, the girl had been left alone with him just long enough for something to happen. Ashlynne had not had a clear enough view of them from where she'd been standing and watching by the cabin door but she knew exactly how much time had passed from when the boy was placed onboard and when the lieutenant returned to the pair of children. Definitely long enough for the boy to say or do something or for the girl to observe or take something. Whether or not it was a mutual secret, again Ashlynne couldn't tell. The boy seemed to have had his memory washed out with seawater and was not the most reliable source for any information prior to waking up to the sweet Elizabeth's face.

"Are all the remaining stocks tallied and accounted for?" Again his voice held an edge that tipped her off to the fact that he was stalling for something, or someone. She nodded but did not speak.

Silence reigned the room for the next few moments, save for the sound of breathing and turning pages. Ashlynne couldn't stop her curiosity and would from time to time glance in his direction. However, he never seemed to move or look away from the log book. That fact disappointed her, and the fact that she was disappointed annoyed her.

Ashlynne growled and reached over for the ruler. She was such a female sometimes it was damned annoying. Why couldn't they be more like men? Always surging with testosterone, having an excuse for anger and territory issues, never really dwelling on consequences or silly things like emotions. Yes, she knew her brief assessment of men was rather negative, but she was feeling a wee bit negative at the moment.

She glanced in his direction and studied him more directly. He looked as he ever did, pristine and downright edible. She continued to study him until her eyes went crossed.

"Is there a problem?" His voice made her jump and nearly fall out of her chair.

"Nay, there is nay a problem. Though I am curious as to why yer in 'ere when yer usually out there."

"I am a lieutenant and you are a clerk. I have an obligation to oversee your work and make sure it reaches optimal standards." His gaze on her turned fiery and intense so fast she couldn't help but nod silently and look back down at her charts.

That look made images pop up in her mind that were best not thought of. She shook her head to clear it.

"Have you ever been to Port Royal before?" his voice was dangerously close to her ear and brought her out of her idle wonderings.

She shouldn't have done it but she turned to look at him and found her nose touching his, his eyes peering deep into her own, their lips only inches away from each other. Her mind went blank and only pure pride kept her mouth from falling open and her knees from going weak. For his part he seemed just as surprised by the sudden change in proximity and quickly retreated a space.

"What was that?"

"Have you ever been to Port Royal before?" he repeated, though his voice sounded almost pained now.

Ashlynne blinked a few times before she answered, "Nay, this will be me first time."

He nodded and she turned her attention back to her charts, this time with her senses even more on alert. If she closed her eyes she could just picture…

She felt one of his hands trace her jaw line then down her neck to her collar bone before it rested on her shoulder, his other hand tracing the outline of her lips and she had to dig her nails into the palms of her hands to keep from falling on him. She was under a spell, surely she was under a spell. That was the only thing that would explain these happenings.

One moment she was blinking back at his intense stare the next she was tasting his soft lips with her own. The kiss started out soft, curious, then as they grew accustomed to one another it increased to something more. His mouth slanted over hers, his tongue diving in and out. Her hands clutched his shirt then delved into his hair, holding his face at just the right angle for her to try to take control of the kiss. She took her turn in the assault, her tongue rubbing against his in his mouth, tasting him intimately and thoroughly. She found herself standing and pressed against the table moments later, his arms branding her body as they held her fast against him and the table, and that didn't bother her one bit.

She felt his hands move to her hips, cupping her rear and giving it an appreciative squeeze before moving up under her shirt. The first feeling of his fingers on her skin made her shiver. Her hands weren't idle either. They were frantically picking at his buttons until she had his formal coat undone to his belly button. She eagerly pressed both hands against his chest and the warm skin beneath the thin shirt, running her fingers up and down his chest, and purring with delight at his growl of appreciation.

One of his hands made its way to the front of her shirt and she couldn't stop the moan of pleasure when he firmly held one of her breasts. She pulled away from the kiss long enough to gasp in air and moan his name. He kissed his way down her neck, sucking over her artery until she knew he'd left a mark. He scraped his teeth against her skin and she quivered with fiery desire. She cradled his head against her neck, wanting something, needing something, something she knew he could give...

"Mr. Fitzpatrick!"

Ashlynne stiffened and threw a horrified look over at Norrington, only realizing too late that she'd fallen into a fantasy with him only inches away. Had she moaned his name aloud? Was she blushing? Oh hell! She shook her head until her hair fell in front of her face and managed to squeak out a response, though she didn't quite trust her voice just yet.

"I asked if you could show me the log book for when the _Dauntless_ was last in port." He was staring at her as if she'd gone daft, and Ashlynne could only assume she had for having had such intense thoughts for a man she barely knew.

"Oh, of course!" She jumped up from her seat and scurried over to one of the cabinets. She was grateful for the space it put between her and the object to her lascivious fantasy. She'd had dreams, more recurring than normal, since they'd been at sea, all featuring the lieutenant in some fashion, but to have had a day dream so suddenly and with him so near? That was NOT normal.

"Have you found it?" She realized she'd been dawdling when his voice interrupted her thoughts again.

She nodded," Aye, 'ere it tis." She came back and handed him the book in question. "Anything else I can do for ye?"

He eyed her for a moment more before he shook his head, "No, this will be enough. We should put into port within the day or so, weather permitting. I will need all logs and charts up to date by then."

"Aye, Lieutenant." She gave him a small smile and watched as he turned and left the room.

It wasn't until he left the room that she collapsed back into her chair, her whole body shaking with emotion. She wanted to laugh and cry at the same time, run after him and push him away. Goodness she hated being a female! It would do her some good to be free of the constraints of the ship while they were in Port Royal. Maybe she could find some female clothing and disappear into the guise of her true sex for a few hours while on leave. She felt a shudder rake her body at an unexpected image of Norrington catching her in female garb. Perhaps staying as a man would be best after all.

* * *

James glanced over his shoulder at the closed door of the cabin and frowned. He wasn't quite sure what had just happened but he knew for certain that the lad had mouthed his name while his eyes had been closed, an almost pained look on his face. He'd called his name a few times before resorting to near shouting. When Ashlin had looked at him again his face had been aflame and there'd been a glaze of…desire?...in his eyes. Not being immune to such things, James had beat a hasty retreat.

James continued to shake his head as he headed up the stairs to confer with the captain. They still needed to decide the rotation of who would have shore leave first, as well as the sticky subject of Will and what to do with him to discuss. Even as he neared the captain with such weighty matters on his mind he still found the image of Ashlin looking at him with such surprising desire burned into his brain.

While things had grown "warmer" between them in the passing weeks, and he found himself as close to an inferior member of the crew as he felt was appropriate, things had also grown more uncomfortable between them. While he'd at first thought conversing with one another as fellow men would allow the tension between them to wane, it had in fact only grown stronger and definitely turned into more of a sexual awareness, if he was going to correctly label it, than he'd planned for.

He'd never before taken notice of another man in quite the way he took note of Ashlin. The curve of his spine, the creases by his eyes, the wave in his hair, or the unique lilt in his laugh…all these things built up to an awareness solely reserved between lovers or soon-to-be lovers. James knew this because he'd felt these things before, noticed these things before, but only once, and that had been years before his commission with the navy. To again feel this awareness, and towards a man, was more than a little disconcerting.

At first he thought to avoid the lad, and that by putting distance between them it would help abate the tension. But it had only served to aggravate the frustration between them and caused him to dream of the clerk, more than once, in a most inappropriate manner. Thus he decided to instead spend at least a few minutes a day talking or working with him. This did help him not feel so frustrated whenever he saw him but again it only served to bring the lad further into his thoughts and dreams. Therefore, there seemed to be no rational answer to the problem.

To be completely honest with himself, he knew he was mentally and sexually attracted to a clerk. To assuage this brutal fact, James did note that there was something almost feminine about the lad. From the way he moved to the way he interacted with the rest of the crew, his attention to details most overlooked, even his eyes and smile, they all had a feminine aura to them. It was because of this, and his own lack of time or interest in women of late, that James decided that his mind had latched onto the clerk and manifested an attraction for him.

Once they landed in Port Royal, he would discretely find a willing woman to divert his attentions and all would be right in the world again. At least, if there were places to find such discrete women. He was just as new to Port Royal as the clerk, Governor Swann and his daughter. He could at least hope for that there would be an outlet to his pent up frustration.


	7. All in the name of duty

As she walked along the narrow lane Ashlynne barely kept herself from howling with frustration. Not only had the blacksmith been a drunken rogue but he'd also been the bearer of very bad news. He'd sold the much desired "item" to the inn keeper a few months prior to her arrival. Due to his outstanding bill, they were now not on good terms and as such the blacksmith would be unable, more likely unwilling, to put in a good word for her with the man, thus leaving her to make introductions and transaction on her own.

At first she'd wanted to stab him with the bejeweled dagger but when he told her how much he'd sold the item for she figured he was too much of an idiot to waste the prison sentence on. The blacksmith had eyed the dagger with vague recollection but she paid him in gold for the information instead and kept the dagger; best to give it to the real owner of the "item" instead of the drooling imbecile. The blacksmith, for his part, only argued briefly before she'd poured him another drink and left him passed out on the table just outside his shop.

She noticed that there was no apprentice to the blacksmith and that for the most part it looked as if the locals of Port Royal were doing what they could to repair their own metal works while the man supposedly skilled enough to do it nearly drowned in his own drool. She remembered overhearing the captain and Norrington discussing the lad Will and his future. Might not be a bad suggestion…

"Ow! Ye bloody ingrate! That was me foot ye so kindly stepped on!" She hopped on one foot and cradled the offended appendage close to her waist for a few moments, not bothering to look up until the throbbing eased. When she did look up, she found herself staring at one of the most beautiful women she'd ever seen, accompanied by one of the dourest looking older gentlemen. "Beggin yer pardon. I didna realize ye were of quality." She made sure to pull her cap off and bow slightly, assuming a docile and humble stature. "I 'ave another foot ye could tread upon if it so pleases ye."

While the woman looked mildly amused, the man glared daggers at her, "What nonsense! You had best show your betters the respect they deserve you filthy sea rat."

"Aye, I am a sea rat, and aye I 'ave nay had a good washin yet. But as to showin respect, I do show respect, but to those who deserve it, sir, and nay just folks who 'appen to 'ave more lands and titles than meself." Again the woman looked amused, more so now, while the man's face began to burn bright red. "Before ye keel o'er dead from anger, sir, ye best ken that I was born in the month o' mischief and me ma ne'er could box me ears enough for me to behave. I 'ave just been 'avin a wee bit o' fun with ye." While the man seemed to be breathing more evenly he still looked ready to yell obscenities at her. "I will take me leave of ye now." She replaced her cap and gave the woman a smile. "Pleasure 'avin me foot abused by ye miss." She turned to face the man who was now more flabbergasted than anything. "I'm sure yer 'eart's been beatin like mad for a bit so it's been a right pleasure 'elping ye get the exercise ye needed."

Before he could fully erupt into shouts, Ashlynne turned on her heel and trotted down the lane. She was near the corner when she heard the woman laughing while the man growled out obscenities. Pausing at the corner, she looked back towards the pair. The woman looked up and caught her gaze and gave a wink with a secret smile. Ashlynne felt a blush erupt in her cheeks and to threw herself back around the corner, leaning against the wall. That was…odd and entirely unexpected. She'd had to tiptoe around women before while in disguise, she knew how to flirt as both male and female, but rarely had a woman actually responded quite like that, and so quickly.

"Oi! Ash boy!" Ashlynne stiffened when she heard Hardy. She looked up to find him and Davies stalking towards her, Thomas apparently off somewhere else causing mischief. "We were just heading towards the tavern. You want to join? I think I owe you a drink." He stopped just shy of where Ashlin was and gruffly reached out to ruffle her hair, causing her cap to fall on the ground beside her.

"Where's Thomas?" She questioned as she quickly retrieved the cap, keeping her eyes settled on both Hardy and Davies, her trust of them still lacking.

Davies smirked, "He's off visiting a cousin of his, or at least he says she's his cousin. From the way they were eyeing each other I'd say they were a very close family, if you catch my meaning." He elbowed Ashlynne roughly in the ribs as he and Hardy had a good guffaw at Thomas' expense.

"I 'ave a few more places to stop in before the shops close. I'll drop by a lil later, how's that sound?" She really wanted to get her task over with so she could heave that sigh of relief she'd had built up for over a year already.

Hardy and Davies didn't look convinced but at the same time they didn't look like they wanted to fight her. In fact, since she'd saved Hardy's life they'd cut back on the jesting and pushing. A type of respect hovered in the air between them and it was enough to keep them from making her life too miserable; still a little miserable, of course, but not as much as before.

"If you say so, Ash boy." Hardy clapped her hard on the shoulder as he passed. "We'll save a few wenches for you." He shared a good laugh with Davies as they continued on their way down the lane.

Ashlynne shook her head. She already, apparently, had had enough trouble with wenches thus far in Port Royal. She'd prefer to keep the number from rising.

* * *

James tapped his finger against his sword hilt as he waited just outside the governor's house. The captain was still inside talking to Swann while the last of their belongings were being brought in. Miss Swann had disappeared some moments before with one of the local women and her daughter, apparently eager to explore her new home. While James admired the girl's sense of adventure he had an inkling that eventually that sense of adventure would lead her into trouble.

Glancing up at the storm-cloud darkened sky he resisted the desire to sigh. Having docked the day before and settled all affairs with the harbor authorities, he'd had some time to explore the town. While he'd found it entirely too small to satisfy certain cravings it was thankfully large enough to indulge at least one, that of a bath and lodgings away from the ship for at least a night. He was eager to be on his way to do just that. He only had to wrap things up with the captain before he was officially on leave.

A good portion of the crew was already on leave, and had disappeared with a speed that shouldn't have surprised him. Ashlin had been among the crew on leave this day. It had not been his doing, them both having the same day of leave. It was entirely possible that eventually they might run into one another, though he certainly didn't wish it. Some time away from the lad would do him some good.

"Well lieutenant," James brought his attention back from its idle wanderings to find the captain standing next to time, drawing his hat back upon his head, "Just have one more person to meet and I'd like you to meet him as well."

James mentally frowned but outwardly nodded, "Yes sir." He fell into step beside the captain and held open the carriage door before crawling up behind him.

"Yes, it is a Mr. Forester. He is related to a friend of mine back from my Liverpool days. It seems that Forester has a daughter that he'd like to have attend one of the finer schools located near London. He wanted to meet with me to discuss the particulars of perhaps sailing back with us, since we are the only ship in port that is set to sail in that direction this season."

James nodded, "Of course sir." He was not looking forward to having a woman on board but he had no say in it.

"In any case, I think having you there will set his heart more at ease." The captain had a smile that made James a little uncomfortable.

"Sir?"

"Well Forester is of course worried that his daughter and her chaperone would be exposed to foul language and coarse behavior while on board. Hearing only from me that such things would not happen may not be enough to appease his fears. Having you represent more of the crew would be beneficial for such a task."

James didn't know if he should be insulted or complimented by such a statement but he nodded his assent and politely listened to the captain tell him more particulars about this Forester fellow and his daughter as they rode back into Port Royal.

It was raining by the time they met up with the dour looking fellow and his stunningly beautiful daughter. The older fellow had some rather unflattering things to say about some of the newly arrived sailors before they had even sat down at the tavern table. While the captain laughed at Forester's expense and assured him that none of their crew were Irish AND disrespectful, James had a sinking suspicion that yes in fact they did. While he didn't know why he would react in such a way, James felt that most certainly the "Irish runt" Forester and his daughter had been accosted by was indeed Ashlin. When he saw the clerk again he'd be sure to question him.

* * *

Her luck was not getting any better. Not only had she had to hand over the dagger, but she'd also had to cough up a good portion of her own cash in order to get her hands on this bloody pendant—she'd gone through all this trouble for a necklace? This was all done after she'd bribed one of the tavern maids to give her some female garb in order to disguise herself. Now she just had to sneak out the back of the tavern so as not to be seen by Hardy and the others.

"Hey!" Ashlynne halted and turned to face the wife of the innkeeper. "I don't know where you think you're going missy! Not when this kettle of water needs to be taken to the wash room. There's a well paying patron who's been waiting long enough for a bath."

Ashlynne chewed the inside of her cheek, contemplating the logistics of running down the remaining stairs and out the door before the lady could catch her. Of course, her efforts to be inconspicuous would be ruined if she did that. Figuring it was all in the line of duty, Ashlynne nodded and hurried forward and grabbed the heavy kettle from the woman. With instructions on where the room was, Ashlynne hurried down the corridor to the last room on the right. She knocked quietly once before nudged the door open; she wasn't about to wait long, the kettle was hot and heavy.

"Excuse me sir," she kept her voice low and her head down as she scurried across the room to where the wash tub was already steaming and partially filled, "I 'ave the rest of yer water 'ere." She made sure to switch her accent slightly; the woman she'd borrowed the clothes from had been Welsh.

"Thank you," Ashlynne almost tripped into the tub when she recognized James' voice, "you may just set it to the side and I will use it when I need it."

Ashlynne nodded, unable to vocally respond. She set the kettle down a little more loudly than intended and turned to hurry out the door. She was stopped when James stepped in front of her. He was wearing only his form fitting breeches and his shirt, his coat and vest discarded on a chair nearby. Ashlynne felt her mouth water from the quick glance she managed to get through her lashes. What had she done wrong to be punished in such a manner?

"For your trouble." He was holding out a shiny coin.

Ashlynne saw her hand shake slightly as she reached out and snatched it from his hand, giving a little curtsy before she brushed past him and out of the suddenly overly warm room. Once the door was closed between her and the object of her late night fantasies and day time torture, she breathed out the breath she'd been holding. Surely that was the worst it would get. Surely she would be able to escape now.

"Why are you just standing there missy?" The horrid woman was back. "There's a crowd in the tavern waiting for their food. Get yourself down to the kitchen and get to work."

Ashlynne hurried past the woman, though she tailed her down the stairs and into the kitchen. Her luck was shite today, as it didn't look like it was about to get any better.


	8. Flashbacks of a Fool

Ashylynne growled her way into the galley, stomping her feet as she went. Of all the nerve! Those two, together, like that? Ashlynne shook her head and continued on her way, the images of the previous hours flashing through her mind.

Groves followed at a respectable, and safe, distance. He watched his friend's antics with wary amusement. He wondered why Ashlin was so angry after having witnessed Lieutenant Norrington with the young Miss Forester. After Miss Forester had been caught in Norrington's embrace in the map room by Ashlin—Groves had heard about it from Gillete moments before—Ashlin had called the woman a name then slammed the door and now here he was. Groves watched from the entryway as Ashlin swiped a piece of bread from the galley and sat down at one of the tables to munch on it. The clerk seemed unaware or uninterested in his presence.

For her part Ashlynne knew that Groves was making sure she didn't arm herself. He'd seen her hold back in fights with Hardy and the boys, and he had good reason to worry. But no, she wasn't about to arm herself with a galley knife and go tearing off after some idiot heiress who liked to play dirty in regards to winning affection. One minute she and her father Mr. Forester are visiting on board, where apparently the lass would be staying on the voyage back, and the next hell had broken loose.

While showing Miss Forester where her quarters would be, the woman had feigned a fainting spell so that she could fall into Ashlynne's arms—Ashlynne wasn't a complete moron to not realize this fact. When Mr. Forester had suddenly come down the corridor towards them, with Norrington of course, she'd been so surprised by their presence that she'd dropped Miss Forester onto the plank flooring.

Of course, both Miss Forester and her father were angry at her for the manhandling—different reasons of course—and Mr. Forester had almost backed her into the vacant cabin with his aggressive advance. Norrington had ordered her up on deck to help repair the sails while he smoothed over the ruffled feathers—of course he didn't say it that way but that was definitely his tone of voice.

She'd happily repaired sails with Thomas and Davies for some time, content to be well away from the already troublesome woman, when Mr. Forester approached her again. This time he demanded to know what happened in a slightly more civil manner. She tried to tell him the truth of it, though not mentioning the fact that his daughter had faked a faint in order to be held by the "man" she was attracted to, but was interrupted by Gillete who asked her to retrieve the Lieutenant as the captain needed to speak with him.

It had been then, on her mission of retrieval, that she'd found Norrington wrapped around Miss Forester in what was unmistakably a rather passionate embrace. At first it had just been shock that the woman could change affections so quickly that'd kept her rooted to the spot but then that changed to anger, at herself, for allowing her affections for Norrington to grow to such a degree that this image made her jealous.

"Arse." She'd growled out, mostly to herself, but she was sure the pair of them had heard it, before she turned on her heel, announced where they were to Gillete, and disappeared down into the belly of the ship.

Groves smiled to himself as he too remembered the turn of events as Ashlin remembered. He wasn't quite sure why he was so angry but then again the lad was finicky on what he chose to make him mad. Suddenly Groves felt someone behind him and he turned to find a frowning Norrington. Groves stood stiffly and was about to speak when the lieutenant shook his head. Knowing when he wasn't wanted, Groves nodded and scurried away. He hoped Ashlin wasn't in too much trouble for the spectacle he'd made with the Foresters a few days prior, let alone just that afternoon. Even though he was a civilian, Ashlin could be replaced now that they were at Port Royal.

Once Groves left, James leaned against the doorframe and watched as Ashlynne chewed away her anger. His theory had been correct then; she was attracted to him, despite her best efforts to hide her sex and interest from him and the rest of the crew. He'd allowed Miss Forester to maneuver him into the map room and into his arms, will full knowledge that she was doing it to try to make his clerk jealous, while he was doing it for the same reason. He hadn't been disappointed with her reaction; that was what had prompted him to seek her out now.

Remembering Groves in the doorway and his stance as her cabin mate, James frowned, a sudden surge of jealousy wrapping its way around his heart. Did Groves know about her disguise? Was there actually something between them? James rubbed the bridge of his nose and sighed.

Things were getting really complicated. Ever since that first night of leave in Port Royal; perhaps he should be thankful now that the scales had been removed from his eyes. But just as much as he was thankful he was frustrated. Coming to the answers he wanted was not easy, especially when he was haunted by such pleasurable memories as from that night.

_James felt the tavern woman remain stiff with shock but once he softened his hold and rubbed his hands against the skin of her hands, she softened. She leaned into him, pressed back against him fully. He slowly let go of her wrists and mentally grinned when her hands almost immediately came up to cup his face and the back of his head, holding him closer and at a better angle for her to deepen the kiss. James growled in pleasure when she nipped at his lips, demanding entrance._

_An image of the clerk suddenly flashed in his mind's eye and he groaned, though he did not pull away. Why, when he was holding this woman, did that pesky clerk have to come to mind? Yes this woman and the boy Ashlin had similar coloring and build, yes there was something about the woman that reminded him of the boy but…wait…was that why he had initiated this? Was it his latent attraction to a male clerk that had driven him to drink past his normal level? Was it his attraction to a male clerk that had caused him to seize the opportunity to act this way with an innocent by-standing female who only happened to look like the object of his sinful affections?_

_When the woman's hand began to wander he pressed closer. James hadn't expected her to respond so eagerly, so thoroughly. He wasn't about to complain though. Images of the clerk were gone now and he could barely think beyond the woman's taste, her smell, the feeling of her skin, the warmth of her body, as they continued to kiss as if it brought them life itself. Air wasn't a necessity for them, at least so it seemed. Neither had any concept of time or place as they continued to kiss, hands roving and exploring, minds blank with sensuality._

_"Och! Get a room."_

_James pulled his mouth away from the woman to find the bar keep sneering at them from the doorway. He gave them a knowing smile before he grabbed a tray and left the room again. James sighed, his whole body relaxing against the woman, his weight propped on the arm he now had braced above her head. He rested his head on her shoulder, his eyes closed as he caught his breath. _

_"Well," the lilt in the woman's voice was thicker, again reminding him of the clerk, "I donna ken about ye but I think it's time I got back to work." _

_James leaned back to look down into her face, "What is your name?" He suddenly felt a need to remain close to her._

_"Now sir," she kept her head tilted away but he could see her smile, "I think that ye'll remember this moment with more fondness if ye didna ken that."_

_James tipped his head to the side, "What do you mean?" He couldn't help himself, one of his hands came down to caress her face, his fingers moving over its softness with near reverence._

_"This was but a moment in time." She frowned and James watched the emotions play across her features: hope, fear, concern, and excitement. "Ye needed it, I supplied it, and we enjoyed it. Now it's time to return to the rest of the world."_

_James frowned, his fingers stilling against her skin. How could this tavern maid be so wise? Why did she remind him so much of Ashlin? He was silent for a few moments before he shook his head. When the woman shot him the first full on glance of the evening he finally caught sight of the color of her eyes and he felt the ground beneath him shift. It couldn't be…_

_"You expect me to forget you? After…this?" He traced her lips with the pad of his thumb and watched, fascinated, as a look of pained pleasure crossed the face of his clerk._

_How could he have been so blind? The attraction, the awareness, all from the beginning, was because his "male" clerk was a female! His body had known what his mind did not want to accept. How had he managed to work so close to this woman and only just now realize that she was indeed a woman? What was her purpose for the disguise? Why was she now in woman's garb? He shut his eyes against the headache all the questions were causing. _

James shook the memory, the moment of startling and unexpected clarity in regards to his FEMALE clerk, from his mind as he walked over to the table where she sat.

"Oh." She stopped chewing and staring off into space once she noticed him opposite her. "Lieutenant." She placed both hands on the table and made to rise. "I'll leave you."

James looked up at Ashylynne, "Sit down."

"Um…" she chewed on her lower lip in troubled thought then nodded and sat down. She allowed a pained silence to fall on the pair of them before she awkwardly cleared her throat. "Is Miss Forester safely back in port?"

"Yes, she has been reunited with her father. Despite the misunderstanding that took place onboard," he leveled a firm glare on her and internally enjoyed the squirm it caused her to have, "the invitation to attend the dinner party still stands." He stood and also retrieved a small portion of bread, having missed tea time to appease Mr. Forester.

Ashlynne watched him move and found herself losing the battle again. Had he always been so muscular? Had his clothes always fit so perfectly against his body and just a bit snug across the biceps and bum? Had his eyes always glowed with mischief and sensual promise? Ashylynne nearly jerked out of her chair when he turned and gave her knowing stare.

"You will attend with the other officers and myself tomorrow evening." He returned to his seat, barely hiding his amusement over her blatant appraisal of his self.

Ashylynne again nibbled on her lip, "Would not the Foresters prefer me not to attend? Especially after what I did when I first met them, not to mention today."

"Ashylynne," She felt her gut clench at the sound of her name on his lips but he

didn't look up. "You will attend with us willingly or I will throw you over my shoulder and take you."

Ashylynne's mouth dropped open in shock. Did he really just threaten her, and with a double entendre? The look of mischief came and went so quickly in his eyes that she couldn't be quite certain. For a moment, staring at him, she found herself lost in the one memory she'd been trying to forget since they'd gotten to Port Royal and life had gotten so much more complicated.

It was from that first night in Port Royal. After hours of fulfilling her disguised duty as pleasant tavern maid she'd been trying to head out the kitchen door when she'd run into Norrington. A bit tipsy, he had spoken to her as if she were still dressed as Ashlin the clerk. For her part she'd responded politely and attended to his needs like the tavern maid would've done, keeping her head down but her spirits light. The memory he now triggered was after she'd grown tired of him complaining about her, the clerk, as more distraction than anything else, and had told him to man up and face down the clerk, in a tone she only used as Ashlin the clerk.

_James moved so fast she dropped the pendant on the kitchen floor; seconds after, he had her pressed against the kitchen wall. He held her arms pinned to her waist, his face dangerously close to hers. His breath smelled of sweet ale and the warmth of his hips pressed against hers, his chest leaning into hers, made her want to swoon like a ninny. The smell of him, a smell she'd grown used to over the passing weeks of him working so close to her, assaulted her senses and she had to fight the urge to sag against him. It was torturous relief to finally have him hold her in this way. _

_She'd never been so quickly overtaken, in a good way, before. Though he did not know that she was in fact his clerk, how could he when he was inebriated as such and she was dressed in female garb again, he soon would learn the truth if she wasn't careful. With him so close, she was too surprised to react much more than gasp before his lips descended on hers in a possessive crush._

"Fitzpatrick." Ashlynne jerked out of the arousing memory to find Norrington smirking at her. "What's your answer now?"

Ashlynne shook her head to clear it, having momentarily forgotten what it was they'd been arguing about, and swallowed, "I will attend. You need not fear a fight from me."

"Good. I was fully prepared to test my knot making skills on you." His bright smile made more of the memory come back with startling clarity.

_Ashylynne moaned when he finally opened to her and she slipped her tongue into his mouth, their tongues doing battle for dominance then settling into a mutual rhythm of pleasure. Coherent thought left and she nearly went up in flames when she felt him press one of his legs between her own. Though it had been ages, her body remembered the pleasure that such a presence could hold and she instinctively lowered herself down more firmly against his leg, rubbing against him wantonly and moaning in ecstasy. _

_Her hands grew wild and even she had no control over their movements. One crept down to his waistline, her fingers scratching up under his shirt while the other reached down and cupped his rear, pressing him closer to her. The fires within her had been sparked and she'd be damned if she didn't take advantage of the moment while she could._

"I can see you're more interested in not listening than listening," she jerked when his voice again brought her out of her mind, "make sure you are back on duty by noon. There's much to be done before tomorrow's leave." He was smiling to himself as he left, knowing full well where her mind had most likely gone, because his mind was there more often than anywhere else as well.

Ashlynne growled and dropped her head painfully on the table, hoping the pain would erase the distracting memories. Why did her luck have to be so bloody bad?


End file.
